#and then so did my little blue civic which was okay but i never want to drive a civic if i live in a place with winters again

[july-19th-club]

the ultimate danger and annoyance of Car Culture aside i do love my car. she's just a used black honda crv and she's not sexual looking and wont be worth anything by the time she'd be an antique and ive put almost 50,000 miles on her in the last four-ish years because i drive an half an hour to work and half an hour back every day. but she's my car. and she's pretty sturdy in the winter if i'm careful with her and she's got plenty of storage space and i dont clean her nearly as often as i should so she's dusty inside and out and i think of her as like. the kind of butch who would wear a crew neck sweatshirt in the late 1990s and she has a wash-n-wear haircut that doesn't flatter her and her nails are always very trimmed. maybe as an indulgence she wears a couple simple pieces of jewelry - leather bracelets or a single small hoop earring. she's calm and heavyset and has a dry way of talking so you're not always sure she's making a joke or not, but she never means you ill. and she guzzles oil like it's going out of style because she is a middle aged woman with 157THOUSAND miles on her engine

[twdmusicboxmystery]

TWD 11x05: Out of the Ashes - Details

Okay, let's talk details of 11x05.

 ***As always, spoilers abound below for 11x05. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

We start with Aaron's dream. First of all, there's the full moon. Remember that Still had a full moon at the beginning, and every time we saw Beta on the outside, such as singing or walking with walkers, it often showed a full moon. In Beta's case, it's probably because his nickname as a singer was Half Moon, but he also had a lot of Beth symbolism around him. I think it’s likely that the reason they gave the name Half Moon was to indicate Beth symbolism.

 Then, Aaron says to Gracie, "we’re almost home." Part of the home theme, and also kind of showed me that this was a dream. There's absolutely no reason why Aaron would randomly be outside the walls with Gracie at night. I don't have a whole lot more to add to the scene than what I said yesterday. I do believe it's a foreshadow of something happening with Gracie, but it also may be a foreshadow of other things that are coming, including stuff with Beth.

This is kind of a funny detail, but I have to say that I love the Jerry bit at the beginning. We see him tiptoeing over people, trying not to wake them on his way to the bathroom. So, we have an entire sequence that can be summed up as, "Jerry pees.” ;D

The next thing we saw was the Commonwealth video. The really cheesy one with Lance Hornsby that we saw in the trailer. Some of the symbols we saw in that video were interesting. Such as a bunny cake (rabbit theme), someone playing a guitar (Beth played a guitar in 5x09), 

ice cream (both Eugene and Stephanie talked about ice cream and it became sort of a Bethyl theme, especially because there were so much Bethyl symbolism around them during those conversations; also, Daryl had his “I never” about frozen yogurt in Still). We see a plaque that says, "The Great War,” (probably a reference to World War I, but also part of the Revolution/War theme).

There was also a blond, Beth-lookalike nurse in blue scrubs.  👀

I also noticed that the Commonwealth badge looks a lot like the UK flag. Not so much in its shape or design, but rather the colors. It's got the same red and blue shades as the United Kingdom flag. Remember that we saw the UK flag around Juliet Ormonde's character in the world beyond. So, we think it's a symbol of the war to come with the CRM.

When Yumiko goes into the bakery looking for her brother, there's a song playing called “Three Speed Girl.” It was just the three that caught my attention. (Look up lyrics). They all a lot of apples in the bakery. Not real apples but glass, decorative ones. Not only Apple theory, but specifically what apples represent.

I've theorized before that the apples could represent separation between loved ones. For example, in 6x14, we see Michonne and Rick wake up together in the room and they both eat an apple. I came to believe that was a foreshadow of Rick leaving in S9 and two of them being separated. @frangipanilove, however, explained it differently. She says that rather than them being separated, she thinks apples represent them coming back together. As then, a reunion after the separation.

I know that sounds like the opposite of what I explained, but really all amounts to the same thing. The kind of separation that I mentioned is what we see with Rick and Michonne being separated, Beth and Daryl being separated, perhaps even Carol and Zeke being separated (if he does, in fact, get a death fake out). And that's always going to result in a reunion down the road. So if we explain as a separation, it will always lead to a reunion. And if we explain as a reunion, it in order for reunion to take place, there must've been a separation first. See what I mean? You can explain it either way.

So, the apples make total sense in the scene. Yumiko has been separated from her brother for a long time. She said it's been years because the two of them were somewhat estranged, even before the apocalypse happened. And now, in this episode, we see a reunion. So, I think were spot on about the Apple symbolism.

As for Beth, we didn't actually see her eat an apple. I think that would've been too on-the-nose. But, given the Snow White symbolism, or template of her arm falling, remember that Snow White ate an apple, which was poisonous, just before we fell she fell and we saw her arm. So, if TWD is using the apple to represent separation, we didn't actually see Beth eat one, but her arm falling like that represents the Snow White template, and right after that, we see her separation from Daryl and the rest of TF. I think it lines up rather well.

When Eugene and Stephonie are walking around, we see a white horse drawing a mail truck. It's a combination of several very potent symbols. We talked about white horses before and how they represent Beth, and life. Then there's the mail or Communication theme. We've seen so many mailboxes on the show, and this was a horse drawing a mail truck. I’ll talk more about the mailbox theme in a few days. Just keep this in mind for now. They're very purposeful symbols and they do represent specific things in the show.

I also noticed that Stephonie is wearing red rimmed glasses. Remember how last week I talked about how Norman was wearing some funky glasses on TTD? Sorry to keep teasing but this is another thing I’ll post about later in the week. I was going to anyway, so seeing the glasses here jumped out at me. For now, just notice that Stephonie is wearing these and they’re red.

When Stephonie decides to help them talk on the radio, they go into the train station. Of course, there are no actual trains running, but the train is a very potent symbol. It's actually being used more as a civic building, and the group tries to be innocuous, though it's obvious they're up to something. Stephonie and Eugene walked calmly through the building while Princess and Zeke take up positions down in the common lobby area. Meanwhile, Mercer is watching them.

Princess tries to head him off and we have a humorous moment where she tries to flirt with him, and tells him he has beautiful eyelashes. It is not exactly the same thing as the eye theme, but I could almost see them going for the eye theme, but twisting it for the sake of humor, because, well, it's Princess. So, she goes with beautiful eyelashes.

 Eugene does manage to get on the radio with Rosita, who tells him the Whisper War is over. They only talk for a moment or two before they lose the feed. Once again, I think that was very purposeful on Commonwealth's part. I think they allowed him to connect with Rosita, but only for a short time before interrupting the feed and bursting into arrest him.

Meanwhile, back in Alexandria, I noticed that Judith asks, "Is he gone?" I sat and thought about this line for a little bit. Obviously, it's the “gone” theme. Usually, the way TWD always uses someone being "gone" to mean that they have disappeared for short time but will return. Very often they are presumed dead. That's why Daryl's, "she's just gone" about Beth is so important. Also, her line to him, "you're going to miss me so bad when I'm gone."

 In this case, I don't think either Judith or Rosita suspect that Eugene is actually dead. She just means did they lose him on the radio feed. And here's something that occurred to me what was thinking about this. It's actually very common when someone loses communication with someone else via radio or walkie-talkie to use the phrase, "get them back." So, something like, "see if you can get them back," or, "I'll get them back." In that context, it just means to raise them on the radio again and reestablish a connection so they can communicate.

The reason this is interesting is that Daryl has said this more than once about Beth or people who were kidnapped. In 5x06 when he was with Carol, he was talking about Beth and said they would observe Grady and then do whatever they needed to do to get her back. I know they also said something similar about Sasha when she was taken by the saviors, and Sasha had massive parallels to Beth during her death arc. So, that had never occurred to me before, but it's almost like they specifically took that line about “getting them back” from radio lingo and are applying it to Beth.

When talking about whether to go to Hilltop, Aaron mentioned that he didn't want to abandon ship. So, a water/ship reference, but it's also close to something Abraham said in 5x05 about going down with the ship.

When they get out Hilltop, I noticed that we have a shot of the water tower, which is now burnt. When they start questioning Keith, he says that Alpha is dead, and someone says that all that does is prove that “he has eyes.” Earlier in Alexandria, Aaron said, “Eyes open.” I know these are really small potatoes references, but there were a LOT of eye mentions in this episode.

A couple of things where Negan and Maggie are concerned. When they get to this house, the cars out front are really interesting. There's a red car out front, which reminded me a lot of the red car that was seen during the filming of the missing 17 days in season five. There are also just a lot of cars with doors or hatchbacks open, which represent the door being opened in 5x09, when Beth disappeared. The hatchback being open can represent the trunk being open. So, just kind of some interesting symbols.

I also thought it was cool that Judith is teaching other kids how to fight.

I think that’s it for Details. Anything I missed?

[lilydavan]

You would think I’d have stopped writing to you by now, considering we’ve been apart for almost a year. June 3rd. That’s a year. A year since you left me. A year since you told me you didn’t love me anymore. A year since you broke me down and left me stranded. And those memories don’t really bother me that much anymore, those words don’t really bother me that much anymore, except that they remain to be an emotional scar on my mind and heart that have caused me to fear the things I used to want most in this world - love, commitment, safety. What you did has scarred me for life, in a way that I wasn’t sure I would ever be scarred. But here I am, and there you are. 

It is May 27th, 2021. 6:01 PM. 

And suddenly, out of the blue, I have found someone absolutely spectacular. Someone who is everything I have ever wanted. The kind of boy I had wished I could have, over and over and over again. Someone who loves the things I love, who makes me laugh harder than I have ever laughed, someone who has deep, intellectual conversations with me at three in the morning when we are drunk out of our minds. And the connection I have with him is unlike anything I think I have ever felt. With you, I felt like I was home, you were my home. But with him, I am always on my toes - I never know what comes next. When I am with him, I feel like I am both home and away, all at once, which is a feeling I don’t think I have ever experienced. Not even with you. When I look at him, I see the possibility of a fantasy coming to life. I see passion, and adventure, and even a little danger. I see the girl that I want to be... that I have always wanted to be. And I am so excited to see her come to life.

And he is beautiful... he is so beautiful, inside and out. And I don’t love him, not yet. But I could - I could love him so easily it scares me. If only I just let myself fall... if only...

And that’s where you come in. 

Do you think I don’t miss you? Don’t miss your voice, or your laugh, or your sh*tty blue Honda Civic, or your mom, or your sister? Do you think I don’t miss taking shots of Jameson in your kitchen at 1 in the morning, or sitting out on the porch swing while you smoked a bowl? Do you think I don’t miss that? Do you think I don’t miss waking up in your bedroom every morning, and rolling over to smother you with kisses? Do you think I don’t miss that? Don’t miss everything we had? Do you think I don’t miss coming home to you? 

Because I do. Still, to this day. But, I am not that girl anymore, and I haven’t been for a very long time now. And sometimes I think about if I would take you back if you wanted to come back. Yea, I miss you. Yea, I miss us. I miss who we used to be. But, those people we were back then... we aren’t those people anymore. So, how would we even go back to that, if we aren’t the same? The answer is we don’t. There was a time it would have absolutely killed me to think about that. To think about the possibility that you and I might never come back to each other again. To think about something I truly loved so much, coming to an end. But, now I am here. And I still love you. I do. I love you so much still. But... I wouldn’t want you back. And I think that for the rest of my life I will think about you and miss who we were when we were just kids in love with no regard for the consequences we would bring upon ourselves. I think I will always miss you, bub. But, this is a part of growing up. 

We love, and we lose, and we continue to love from afar. We love, even if we know there isn’t a spot for that love in our lives anymore. And it could have been you... but there’s no sense in thinking about that now. Not anymore. Not when you left. Not when you didn’t choose me. A future broken before it could really begin. A lesson learned for each of us. A piece in our hearts gone, you have mine and I have yours. But, we were just kids, how were we supposed to know how to love each other? How were we to truly know of love and commitment, how were we to be ready for that? The answer is we weren’t. We still aren’t. 

So, here I am. And there you are. Wherever that may be. Honestly, I don’t want to know. But, I wish you all the best. Maybe one day we can be friends again, when the thought of all that love we used to have for each other seems insignificant in the face of all that we are by then. I miss you. I do. And I hope you miss me too, even if we’re okay without each other now. 

- words I want to say to you but I can’t

Lily Davan 

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXII: Wendy City

As I sat outside with a few friends at the break of dawn, my mind kept returning to just last night. That scene couldn’t be shaken away and while those folks conversed with pudding cups and oranges in hand, I mulled over that lady’s words.

“Rhea? Is that you?” She asked.

“Rheain’t,” I should’ve replied with. Rather than such a statement as, “now that’s a name I haven’t heard in years.” God damn, could I have been any more ambiguous? Sure, it made sense to me at the time, but I probably gave my would-be bounty hunter the wrong impression.

Now that I thought of it, we were similar in stature and I suppose (although it was a bit of a stretch) that in the dark, my purple hair could have been mistaken for her blue. Still...the implications of being mistaken for such a person left me just a little unsettled.

Pensive, I fixed my gaze on the space between the four of us, then allowed a smile to form.

“Last night I ran into someone who mistook me for an old co-worker of mine,” I announced to the group.

My arms were crossed and I glanced around now and took note of the food in each person’s hand; Otis, with his thick red mittens which held a queen sized candy bar. Gloria, frail and heavy in perfume (who knows how she got hold of such a thing) shook her hands as she spooned pudding into her mouth. Bernard, whose brown and balding hair matched his brown leather clothing, all full of holes. He held an orange in his hand. All the while, my stomach growled.

“You had a job?” Bernard grunted in disbelief.

“Yes, I had a job. Why is that so hard to believe?” I protested. “In fact, it was a little over a couple years ago that I was laid off. Well, all of us were laid off. The company is no more. Just like that office building beside us. Whatever occupied it once doesn’t occupy it now.”

In some respects, good riddance. In others, good grief.

“What kind of job was it?” Gloria, now interested, set down her pudding cup and asked. Bless her frail heart.

Now what can I tell them to make it palatable?

“We were housekeepers, of sorts,” was the answer I came up with.

“What, like you cleaned houses?” Bernard again.

I put my elbow over my knee, palm on my forehead, and shook my head.

“We cleaned...messes. Going from place to place, each of us with our little jobs. Some of us were really good at getting rid of things, while others, it was more about tidying up or moving things around. Brooms, mops, sprays, vacuums, feather dusters. You name it. Everyone had their specialty.”

In truth, our organization never had a name. Those who knew of us outside of the organization would call us ‘janitors’. Then again, some of us did as well. That, or something like it. Custodians, waste disposal, cleaners, plumbers, renovators, whatever. To think that it all stemmed from a joke we all passed around about how we ‘cleaned up after others’ messes’. Then again, how many messes did we clean up and how many did we make?

“You know, back in the day there used to be a term for mafia hitmen. ‘Guy who paints houses’. Were you something like that?” Otis at last gave some input, and I wondered where he heard that bit of trivia. He couldn’t have been much older than twenty.

“No, nothing like that,” I chuckled. “Get that idea out of your head.”

Because it’s too close to the truth for comfort.

“Anyway, about this old co-worker of mine…” I began, but I was no storyteller; I could spend the rest of my bloody life reminiscing, but that didn’t mean I could give a recollection worth a damn. Yet I tried. Important or not, the need to tell these strangers I’ve shared light meals with tugged at me. “What you have to understand is that many of us shared a bond together. Despite the fact we’d always have our jobs at different places from one another and although sometimes we’d be asked to work as a group or paired together, more often than not, we were off doing our own thing. But we still got together, whether it be at taverns, or the…” headquarters. “Office.”

I paused. Not for effect. Not for feedback. But for the simple fact that I wasn’t sure what name to give this mystery co-worker.

“So if you think of us like a grade school classroom, this co-worker, let’s call her Rhonda. Rhonda…Civic. Yeah, that works. Anyway, Rhonda would’ve been the quiet kid in the back. She kept to herself, didn’t really interact with anyone, and had a few quirks. Some odd ways of speaking. Feeling. Others picked up on it, and of course, like a grade school, she’d get teased. Others would talk about her behind her back,” kinda what I’m doing now, except how else am I supposed to talk about someone who’s no longer around?

“I’ve had situations like that,” Bernard grunted as he gave his input. “I used to operate a forklift for a pet food company. Me an’ the boys would shoot the shit when the manager wasn’t watchin’. Most of us, ‘nyway. There was this youngish guy, flannel shirt and overalls. Same attire every day. Didn’t know how he got away wit’ it, but that’s what he wore. He moved bag after bag of dog food, but never once so much as said hi. Not a peep from the kid. We all thought it was weird. Anyway, he quit one day, we never found out why, and that was that. I didn’t even think much of him ‘til you mentioned somethin’.”

“Yeah, it was the same for me,” I replied, and I looked up at the clouds in the sky. “Funny that, I didn’t think much of her back when I worked for that company and now out of the blue someone mistook me for her and it was like, ‘oh yeah…’”

“What about you, Wendy? You’re always off on your own at night, going at it with your projects,” he countered.

“We all have our eccentricities,” I concurred. “I’m also not much for conversation, either, most of the time, but I still enjoy the company of others. If for nothing else than the spectacle.”

It was far too early in the morning, but how I wished to have a warm cup of tea or sake in my hands so I could take little sips as I spoke.

“I never thought anyone outside of the company ever knew her, be it an old friend or an old enemy,” I carried on, unsure if I had any conclusion to this or if it was just early morning rambling.

“What? You think she had enemies?” Otis spat and I could swear that bits of chocolate just flew right by me.

“That’s the thing: I don’t know. There wasn’t really anything I knew about her apart from I heard. Sure, I watched her a few times, but that didn’t tell me much. Whether she had friends or enemies, I could never tell. When I think back on it, I wish I did know. That I had tried to find out more. But it’s kind of that whole ‘you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone’ type of thing. Then again, here she is gone, and I still don’t know what to make of it.”

“Gone?” Gloria must have taken notice of my choice of words. For the record, I didn’t know what became of her. Not any more than I knew what became of the rest of the people I once associated with. Considering that I couldn’t go back to the headquarters (not that I had any desire to return), I had to assume they were all dead and that the place was no more. It made the most sense to me.

“Yeah. Terminated. It’s funny that way, how to them we were all replaceable and they had no problem exploiting us, but even that couldn’t save them.”

“Damn if I don’t know that,” Otis bemoaned. “I have a nephew, and my nephew has a friend who was working when a sign fell on him. Broke his leg. Next thing he knew, management fired him, worker’s comp didn’t cover for his injury, and when he tried to sue, the company’s lawyers blocked him. Then, I knew this other guy who did what he was supposed to. But he got paid scraps and the stress got to him, so one day he came to work all hopped up on coke and his boss fired him on the spot. All those days of doing what he was told and scraping by, and one day was all it took for it to come crashing down. He ended up killing himself some time after that,” after those last words came a sniffle. No tears, though. Maybe it was a runny nose.

I shook my head. Sympathy and grief was a difficult thing to muster given the life I had; countless moments of killing and watching others die. Those I worked with, laughed and shared drinks with, gone at any moment. It wasn’t a case of ‘kill or be killed’, but it was a life defined by the death of others, all the same. So what I felt when Otis relayed his tales of people he knew, all I could feel was hatred and disgust. If I knew their bosses, I would have killed them on the spot.

“You okay, Wendy?” Otis’ voice of concern broke through my thoughts. How I must have stared with that same pensive look I often did when lost in thought.

“It’s just not right, though, is it?” I glanced from person to person as I asked, my question rhetorical in nature. They all shook their heads and murmured, “no” or “not at all”.

Then Bernard waved his hand away and grumbled.

“Bah! Right, wrong, who gives a damn? I’m still alive,” he retorted, then turned to his back and laid himself down over sheets of newspaper.

That was a point I was willing to consider. To some, there was a profound difference between ‘alive’ and ‘survive’, but really, he was no less alive than someone with the privilege of a roof over their head and a bed to sleep in. Food in the pantry and some form of stability. Such things were all an illusion, anyway. People get busy, food goes bad. Bills pile up, costs increase, wage stays the same. To compensate, work extra hours, sleep less. Everything comes at a price few can afford and the compromises are seldom in one’s favor. Locked into a system in which the average person is always just on the verge of homelessness, yet the state of being homeless itself was punished.

Once I had asked Bernard, “if you were given a home, would you take it?” Based on that premise some other minds had, that people such as Bernard only lived that way because they wanted to. That it’s ‘on them’ or whatever. His response? Something like, “show me something that won’t be taken from me, otherwise don’t waste my time.”

That may have sounded like, “I’m here because I want to,” but at least to me, the difference couldn’t have been any more clear.

But enough rants. I stretched my arms out and yawned, then smiled a cheeky grin.

“Well, you know what they say, duty calls,” I announced as I got up. “Time for me to go digging for cash and get myself a bite to eat.”

That was how I went about most of my day: I’d get up, chat with a few folks around the docks, walk around the city ‘til I got a bit of cash, spend it on deep dish pizza and cheap beer (the staple of Chicago), then head back to the docks, bathe in the lake water, and resume my work in the office building. One of those days I’d have working lights, and then I could get to work on giving those folks a more comfortable place to sleep at night. Something like a home. Although it was unfortunate to think that in the eyes of the law, they’d still be considered homeless. Even the most idealistic of endeavors could result in a losing battle.

Whatever actions I might have to take in the future, I focused on the agenda for the day. It was during the day in which I was neither a rumor nor a killer. Daylight meant that I was just a person. Hell, at times a superhero; case in point, an old lady gave me a few bucks after I got her cat out of a tree (yes, as cliché as it was, such a thing happened quite often). Soon after that, I headed down to Cosmo Corner (a popular downtown tavern).

It was about noon now and my favorite bartender would be in soon: Wanda. Nice young lady, all covered in tattoos. At least a dozen on each arm, when I first met her I thought she was part of a crime ring or in a street gang, but nah. Apparently on the side, she liked to paint in her studio, but that was as hardcore as she got. Oh, well, being a bartender could be hardcore too. Not everyone can handle being a bartender.

Right now it was Stickbug (no, I don’t know why he was called that, but everyone called him that. Maybe that’s just his name). Fitness guru with a pencil thin mustache who was disastrous at mixing drinks. But amiable, I’d give him that. None of the conversations he’d strike up were ever ones I was interested in having, but he didn’t have a mean word to say about anyone. Maybe that was the problem: you had to have boundaries. You couldn’t show everyone the same level of sympathy.

“Say Wendy, have you heard of the fall of Constantinople?” Stickbug asked whilst he flung glass after glass in the air and began juggling them. Upon a quick glance, I noticed that there weren’t many people at the moment. Fine enough. I guess no one would give him dirty looks. As for me, I let my head fall onto the counter, the effects of my lack of sleep setting in.

“No, I haven’t,” I replied.

“D’ya wanna hear about it?” He continued to ask, and I already knew how insistent he could be with his topics.

“No,” I told him, to no avail.

“Okay, so we’ve got this city named Istanbul and…” he began, but it didn’t take long for my thoughts to drown out anything else he said.

Why couldn’t I have come in just a little bit later? No, it’s not bad. I could learn things if I listen, I’m just not in the mood to do so. I just want to eat and drink and...oh. Oh my. This must be what Rhea had to deal with all the time...wanting to order food, but never wanting to socialize. Not to mention how anxious she seemed to be in any situation that didn’t have to do with violence. Girl could kick ass but had trouble ordering a sandwich at a sub shop. Not to mention the general bodily discomfort she apparently dealt with.

‘I, and I cannot stressed this enough, am stressed’ I imagine she must have said at one point or another. Seemed to fit, anyway. That, or ‘I, and I cannot stress this enough, need a sweater’ or a blanket. Ugh. Why am I thinking of some weirdo who had such a minuscule presence in my life? Could it have to do with that woman last night? Yeah, probably. Well, a name’s a name. It could have been anyone named ‘Rhea’. Hell, the one I’m thinking of used a different name for each person she met, so I doubt anyone would know her by that name. Probably something else instead, like Sharpay D. Em.

Anyway, I ought to be thinking of more important things. Like the fact that the woman last night wanted to kill me. First of all, couldn’t she have waited? I was busy and I don’t really like being interrupted from my work. All I’m asking for is some fair warning and furthermore –

“...And that is why if you suspect you have a mouse in your home, you should leave a piece of cheese on the floor overnight,” Stickbug seemed to have concluded his little history lesson, except I must have missed many steps, because I wasn’t really sure how we got there.

“Wait, what?” I lifted my head and asked with a dull expression planted on my face.

“Want me to start all over?” He beamed, and I’m sure he could have talked all day and night if someone let him.

“How about later? Isn’t your shift over soon?” I reminded him with a slight sense of pride.

“Oh yeah! You’re right! So glad I got someone to remind me! Otherwise I’d be here all day!”

And nobody wants that. Hell, I don’t even think you’d want that.

“Before you go, I may as well order, seeing as I haven’t done that yet.”

“Oh no!” He gasped. “I hope you haven’t been hungry!”

Funny to think that his concern is real and not sarcasm.

“In fact, I am hungry right now,” I corrected him. “By the way, I’ll get my usual: pepperoni and spinach, large.”

“Right on!” I handed him the cash I had gotten from that old lady earlier. I still had some left over for sake, but I wanted to wait until Wanda got in.

I wonder what kind of food that woman from last night likes to eat. I feel like she’d eat chicken legs and large chunks of steaks. Just, a lot of steak. You know, why am I wondering such a thing? I’ve got better things to think about.

About five minutes later and a glass of water downed, Stickbug waved goodbye. In his place came Wanda with a bandanna over her head and covered in sweat which ran down her face.

“Intense painting session?” I asked.

She wiped her forehead and huffed.

“You know it. Were you waiting for me?”

“Heh,” I flashed her a smile. “It’s just not the same with Stickbug.” Really, how did that name come about? I think he said his name was Steven once, but I’ll be damned if I can remember.

“Is that so?” She asked, then went to the back to put her stuff away and get settled in. About the same time she came back out, the pizza arrived as well.

I took a heaping slice as layer upon layer of cheese and bits of spinach fell off of the pizza and back down onto the plate, unable to sustain itself on the thick cake of dough. Upon taking a large bite, my mouth was filled with the warm and gooey taste along with the combination of squishy spinach and savory pepperoni. One strong gulp later, and I was ready to take a drink. Next to me was my cup of sake, and when I looked up, Wanda winked.

“By the way, someone came in last night asking about any abandoned buildings,” Wanda mentioned as I sipped my cup of sake.

“Oh yeah?” I hummed, which came out more like a “mm-hmm.”

“Yeah. I just told her about the office building you’ve been hanging out in.”

I spat out my drink. Some might have gotten on her apron, but that was her problem, not mine.

“What did you do that for?! I don’t want people coming in and interrupting me while I’m working!”

Then I thought it over.

“Say, what did she look like?”

She put her finger on her chin and looked up.

“Hmm...big and muscular, brown poofy hair.”

Ugh. Yeah.

“Oh yeah. She came by and visited. Tried to kill me,” I replied, almost nonchalant about the whole ordeal, despite how much it had been on my mind.

“What? Are you serious?” She balked.

I shrugged and took another bite of my pizza.

“Yeah, but she wasn’t hard to deal with or anything.”

My main concern was why she was there at all. It’s not that I never expected anyone to come after me, especially when I all but deserted my job. But when no one came, I just expected that I was free and I could live out my life as I pleased.

“Jeez, did you kill her?” She accused. Rather baseless, too.

“No,” I scoffed. “I just sent her back home. Don’t know why she went after me, either.”

“Look, Wendy, I know you’ve killed people. Can’t really say I didn’t see something like this coming.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong: I get why, I just don’t get why, y’know?”

She shook her head.

“It’s like, she said there was a request for my death. She didn’t even know who I was, she mistook me for someone else. What I don’t get is why, rather, how such a request came about. Like, someone knows about me, but is sending people who don’t know about me to do the job.”

“Well, do you know what the request says?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Then maybe whoever made it didn’t know who you were either, but noticed some things around the area.”

“Yeah, maybe.” It was all too possible I was overthinking things. But when it came to things like that, a fair deal of suspicion was necessary. “Whatever the case, if such a request like that is out there, then I doubt the person last night will be the only one.

“It’s kind of an open secret among the circle you talk to that you’re the one behind the murder of those cops. I don’t blame you, plenty of people around here don’t like the police and I really do wish you well, but most people don’t have the privilege to do what you do. Most people don’t have the ability to murder those they see as committing an injustice. Not only that, but most people don’t have confidantes that would be willing to keep their secret. You know why?”

Great. Just what I wanted while I was at the bar with some good food and drinks: a lecture.

“If you’re going to tell me because it’s illegal, I’m going to argue that it’s only illegal if you don’t have a badge and a uniform. Most serial killers are the ones who are hired by the state and demand your respect.”

Her face lowered and she turned from me.

“Yeah, I get it. I’m not saying I disagree, just that the average person isn’t capable of doing such things, even if they wanted to. Even if they ignored the legality, it doesn’t matter. Just as you said, you’ve got got hordes willing to kill whoever they see fit without consequence, decked in highly-militarized outfits and weapons. Their numbers are too great, their power is too great, and if you even show the least bit resistance, they’ll throw in the rest of the military alongside them. So the best most of us can ask for is to avoid them as much as possible. But here you go, picking off anyone who rubs you the wrong way and not only do you manage to sneak on by and keep going, but it’s like you boast about it, too.”

“I don’t boast – I never said I enjoy it.”

“No, that’s not what I mean, sorry.”

“But you’re right: I am very fortunate. In the past, I’ve evaded my demise and have slaughtered entire armies that wished to pursue me. I’m not saying that to boast, though it is quite a feat, I admit. I’ve had a long life, a storied and bloody past, and I really wish I could stay out of trouble, but I just can’t seem to help myself. Old habits, I guess.”

“You’re not that old, are you? You don’t look much over thirty.”

I managed a chuckle.

“Would you believe me if I said I was well over five hundred years old?”

“Quit joking around.”

It’s not exactly wrong. I was born sometime early in the Sengoku period, but time travel sure does let you skip ahead a few years. There’s no way I could explain something like that, though.

“Let’s just say I’ve got a good skincare routine.”

That time, I was joking. There’s no way in hell that bathing in Lake Michigan would preserve your youth.

“Either way, I’m used to not sticking around places for very long. If things get too hot, I’ll leave town. So don’t worry about me,” I assured Wanda.

“I’d like it if it wouldn’t have to come to that,” she replied. “You’re a good customer, and make for good conversation.”

Well, I couldn’t say I wasn’t flattered, but hopefully she wouldn’t hold it against me if I did decide to ditch this place, reside elsewhere and try to lay low. Eventually I would have liked to settle down and be an old lady. Maybe knit sweaters in my spare time, or get a dog and a garden. Become the friendly old lady in the neighborhood that no one knows anything about.

None of that was likely. People like me weren’t meant to last long. As far as age went, I was already pushing it and as far as I knew, I really wasn’t much over thirty. It was just hard to tell where in my thirties, since my concept of time has been all screwed up.

I left the bar soon after. Despite my enjoyment of Wanda’s presence, my head just wasn’t as much in it as I thought it would be. So, still middle of the day, I returned to the docks, ready to get back to work.

I still don’t have the solution. Not enough power. Every time I think I’ve got a spark, it only lights one area. What I need is a lightning rod. Maybe I could stand one of my swords up to the roof to collect electricity. Or antennae. No. That still wouldn’t be enough, not without the right circuitry and places to send the electricity to. There’s more than one component and I can’t just do one without the other. If I’m lucky, there might be some generators downstairs I haven’t discovered. But even if I have to steal or build power generators, I want to give these places a semblance of a home. Some place to rest.

But even if I’m successful, it still wouldn’t be legal for them to reside there. What would I do, then? Fight off a whole force? Or would I run with the knowledge that I would be outnumbered? When I consider the eventual outcome, it was a futile effort and good intentions will only get me so far.

I shook my head as I entered the darkened building through an opening with a loose board. If that woman had been more attentive, she would have seen that not all of those boards were as well covered, and one of them actually served as a door.

Inside, an absence of light. I reached to my right and grabbed my helmet and katana which lay on top of a tall cabinet.

Upon placing the helmet on my head, I had a much clearer view of my surroundings. The infrared visor on my helmet allowed me to see in the dark, albeit some objects showed up blurry.

Outside, it was still light. Dusk wasn’t expected for another few hours. In other words, I had time. I could do my work in peace, take a little nap, not worry about anything. If no one was going to come after me until well after dark, then I could prepare.

So I did just that; I patrolled the area, climbed up each floor, checked out each room, then headed back down to the first floor. All around the first floor I searched for a hatch or a door, a flight of stairs, something that would lead to a basement. No such luck. It seemed that there were no passages, hidden or otherwise. No basement. No generators.

Maybe that’s what I’ll have to resort to. I’ll have to dig out a basement, fill it with concrete, get some generators built or setup...argh! Why is it so hard to get this going? I should just tell everyone, “sorry guys, I know I hate to make false promises, but looks like I just set my sights too high!”

I sunk down to the floor along a wall, right next to a door which would have led to someone’s office.

“Who am I kidding? It’ll be a miracle if I don’t leave before I get the chance to figure this out.”

I leaned my head over and soon felt the weight of the darkness creep up on me as it guided me to a gentle sleep.

When I awoke, I brought myself up to my feet and decided to climb up the many flight of stairs once more.

If I’m lucky, I’d like to at least get the elevator working. Something.

Short rests were all that were ever afforded to me. If I had gotten three hours or more, that was oversleep for me. With the way my body operated, perhaps adapted, I never worried myself with dreams. On the rare occasion where I had a dream, they were brief windows, photographs, still frames cascading down. Images of being beheaded. Of watching my head roll down into a river. Typical things like that. Such things weren’t memories, but just reminders of what should have been long ago.

Never mind. Several flights later, I saw the bits of collapsed roof on the floor. Above, the glow of the moon illuminated the floor. It was the only source of light I was afforded, save for the helmet.

So I see. It’s evening now.

“Damn, couldn’t she have found a different way in other than breaking down the roof? Now I’m going to have to repair that as well…”

If another came after me, I really hoped they wouldn’t drop down from the roof. That would make things too easy for me.

I’m going to consider that it’s still too early for something like that. Not that I have a watch or a phone, but I doubt it’s been night for very long. I just can’t imagine anyone attacking me until late into the night. Any time earlier and it would just be rude.

Just like the night before, I went down to where the top of the elevator was, along with the open panel in the wall. If I had to start somewhere, I figured I’d get done what I could. That was, if I could get anything done at all.

So as I crouched down and got to work, my helmet lifted as I did so. I struck a match and held it between my lips as I worked, plucking it out every now and then to help bind the wires together. There were two wires left with just a little bit of juice. I pulled out a pair of rubber gloves, then held the two wires together and rubbed them; as soon as there was a spark, I used the flame from the match to bind them together. Behind me, a couple rooms away, a light turned on.

Now let’s hope it stays on. Which reminds me: I need to get new light bulbs.

One day, if I ever got (or built) a generator and a basement to place it in, I would test the breaker board. It would be a beautiful sight if one day the whole building could light up. Even as it was, the light from the room remained and leaked out. I was impressed to see that it had stayed on.

Now if I flick the switch off, then on again, will it turn back on?

As I turned to work on the elevator, I was stopped in my place when I heard a thump in the distance. It could have been nothing. Those pipes were old, after all. The vents too.

But even if it was nothing, I had to check it out.

Down one flight of stairs, the sound of movement and creaks against the vents could be heard.

Could it be that I’ve got a guest?

That same sound continued in little spurts. Less noise, but still there. Unavoidable. I could tell, there was movement of some kind. Rat, pebble, raccoon, or a person. Further down the hallway, the sound grew closer, more pronounced. Little shimmies and brushes. Metallic clangs.

I stood in place as the sound seemed to be just above my head. I took off my helmet. No need for it.

“I know you’re up there,” I announced.

Silence. No more movement. Nothing.

Seconds went by. Still nothing.

Stillness passed through the air, and so I had no choice but to accept that I may have just been hearing the old building making noises.

I let out a heavy sigh. Defeat. So soon, too.

“Guess I was just hearing things. I’ll head back now.”

Still no sound of movement. How disappointing. I unsheathed my sword and flashed a toothy smile.

“...Just kidding,” I said before I plunged my katana into the vent and sliced the thing in half.

If there had been a person, or just a rat, surely they felt that.

As I did so, the noise of steel against steel, the grating being slashed apart couldn’t mask the undeniable sound of movement heading backward.

I held my katana up and dragged it against the ceiling as I walked toward the sound of someone retreating from within the vents.

Around the corner, I heard a drop, and the hard tap of a shoe against the floor.

So it was a person. And I missed. I really must be losing my touch.

As I approached, someone small and frail looking peeked out from the corner and threw a knife my way. I caught it between my fingertips and just as fast, threw it back. In a panic, the intruder let out a squeak and ducked back behind the corner, then picked up their knife and ran.

“Were you thinking you could kill me with that? Or were you planning on me blocking it, then running toward me with another knife, the thrown knife being a distraction?” My smile grew wider, almost a grin. It didn’t take much to know their strategy; too many times I’ve dealt with similar tactics. Smart, but amateurish.

Does this person really think they stand more of a chance than the person last night? Or are they just expecting to run around like this is some endurance test?

I wasn’t about to let them experience such a luxury. I ran after and watched as they almost got behind the door to an adjacent room, but before they could do so, I grabbed their wrist and held on tight. Once I pulled them forward, closer to me, it turned out the intruder was a young woman with wavy, green hair.

With my other hand, I raised my knife and readied myself to slice down against her arm.

She scowled, then with her free arm reached for my wrist to free herself. Before she could puncture me, I swung my blade down, at the same time let go of her wrist. Just in time, she jumped out of the way. I turned to make a quick slash, but she blocked it with her knife. Such a measly thing. All I had to do was push harder and it began to show little cracks.

She let go and jumped out of the way again.

“Nimble one, aren’t you?” I observed. Then she charged, but I moved out of the way. She tried to slash with her knife from the side, but I blocked it with my blade, then let go and kicked her to the floor.

Short on breath, she picked herself up. So far all of her efforts, while quick-witted, had been feeble at best.

“Let me ask you this: why do you want to kill me? Is there money involved?”

“I...I don’t want to kill you. That’s...that’s not why I came here,” she spoke, her voice rough, but high in pitch and she fixed her gaze on me as she tried to recover her breath.

“Then why?”

“I want to know who you are,” she answered.

That was such a ridiculous answer. But at least it was some kind of answer.

“I’m a serial killer,” I replied through my teeth. “I leave a trail of bodies in my wake. Sliced open, stabbed through the chest. Cut to ribbons. Does that answer your question?”

Her face turned to shock and she took a step back, but shook her head.

“No, I already knew that much from the request.”

“That again. The request to kill me, correct?”

She gave a nod.

“But I would rather not have to try. Not if you’re anything like who Sunny thought you were.”

“Sunny?”

“The one who tried to kill you last night and got herself beat real good. She thought you were –” I stopped her.

“Rhea?” I asked.

Another nod.

“What was so special about that name? There’s probably plenty of people in this city with that name.”

“Yes. And I looked up every single person with that name in Chicago. There were a lot more names than I thought, and not all of them were happy about receiving a phone call from a stranger.”

…

“Are you a dunce? Did you really?”

“Yes.”

I snorted. I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of someone actually doing that. I sunk down to the wall and sat.

“Sit,” I commanded. “And if you try anything funny, I will kill you.”

Wordless, she crouched down and sat against the wall across from me.

“So what does that name mean to you?” I questioned.

“Nothing. But it means plenty to a few of the people around me. Rhea Flection, they call her. Apparently she was both feared and admired. Some people want her dead, or revenge on her, others just seem to wish they could see her in action. My cousin and her wife were apparently one of her targets. Someone I admire apparently worked in the same company as her. Says that she died. Yet all these other people keep bringing her up.”

Damn. That name. So it really was the same one that I knew.

“Heh,” I leaned my head back. Absurd as it was, I not only stopped the fight, but also let my guard down. “I wonder if I’ll have my own fan club as well when I die.”

“I take it to mean that you’re not her?” She asked, something which I would have thought was obvious.

“You mean that socially awkward iceberg? No. I’m not her.”

“Iceberg?” She tilted her head, which made me wonder just how much she actually knew.

“You’d have to have been there.”

“So I take it you knew her?”

“Yes. We worked in the same company. But that’s ancient history. For the record, I’m Wendy Day. You?”

“Demetria. What kind of name is that, by the way?”

“I picked it out because I wanted an English sounding name, and it sounds like ‘windy day’. Not very clever, I know. I used to be called Mizue Soyokaze, but I threw that name away long ago, along with the rest of my younger self.”

“Cool. Lore. Can I sit next to you?” She asked, rather sudden, too.

“Go ahead. But I’ll remind you not to get any ideas.”

She got up and as she approached me, she looked away, ashamed or uneasy.

“I probably should have tried to kill you, seeing as I don’t want you to go around killing people, but I was more focused on getting some kind of answers,” she said as she sat down. Then turned away from me. I took it to mean she was shy.

“You don’t want me to go around killing people?” I scoffed. “I don’t want me to go around killing people. I’ve tried to put this life behind me, not get myself into trouble, but then I see others do things that I just can’t abide by.”

“Like what?” She asked, and her voice quivered. If only I had dragged out the battle, maybe she would have shown more bravery.

“Sexual abusers, for starters, but that should be obvious. Then there’s people like landlords and debt collectors who couldn’t care less if they let others die in the name of money. Greedy fucks all around. Still, I can’t catch everyone out there, only the ones that I see. Even then, I try not to let my blood boil, not let it get to me. I try to sit by, abide by the law, but then I witness a child running around with a toy gun with his best friend playing some kind of game, like cops and robbers. Then an actual cop comes and shoots the kid dead, a cruel irony. Said cop walks off, no remorse or recourse, all the while that kid just wanted to play and now their life ended. That I can’t abide by.”

“Wow,” she mouthed.

“But, in case you start thinking I’m some savior, acting only in the name of justice, let me remind you that I’m a murderer and violence is what I know. If anything, I find excuses to take lives, not unlike some of the people I so despise. It’s not even so much a craving or an addiction, but I don’t think this world will ever grow kind, and neither will I.”

“But why did you ever start?”

“Because,” I began. I had to pause, and I thought to myself, wait. Am I really going to go through my life story with a stranger I assumed wanted to kill me? Fuck it. I’m doing this. “I’m all too familiar with authority abusing their power. Back in my old life, when I was young and still had a family, there was a high ranking member of society who was found dead, a puncture wound through their chest. I was blamed for it, an unassuming girl who stayed home all the time and helped out with her family. But once I was accused, that same family disowned me, regardless of whether or not I had actually committed such a thing.”

“Did you?”

“No. But that didn’t matter, I was just a commoner, so my word didn’t mean much, and there was less proof that I didn’t than proof that I did, even if either way was inconclusive. Regardless, I was set to be executed; beheaded, actually. Two men with swords beside me, one in front. All against my throat. However, I managed to fight back and steal the two men’s swords, then cut them all down. After that, I hid out in an abandoned shack. Later on, I found out who the real killer had been and killed him myself. After, I fled. That didn’t stop me from being pursued, but I cut anyone down who dared to try.”

“That’s kinda badass,” she commented. I had to stop her right there.

“No, just bad. My life should have ended that day, as the person I am now was the person I was once accused of being. But no matter how many close calls I’ve had, I’m still here, like some kind of cockroach.”

“And your company?” She asked, and I knew where her real focus was.

“They picked me up a few years back, though in my mind it was centuries ago. They told me that they could offer me protection, be paid to take out those who would abuse their authority. By then, I knew it was only a matter of time, with whole armadas after me. So I accepted.”

“I see.”

“Do you know what we did in that company?” I pondered.

“I get the gist of it. It’s unpleasant, but I can’t just fault everyone when I don’t know them.”

“Huh. Interesting answer.”

I stared down at my blade, then sheathed it. It had been a while, but not unheard of, since I just...sat next to a would-be victim and heard them out. I kind of missed it, as often when it did happen, I would end up sparing said person and coming to a better understanding of them.

“Say, back when you worked there, did you know of someone named Remora?” She asked again.

Remora...Remora...does that ring any bells? No, I don’t think it does.

“No, sorry,” I replied.

“Uh...shivers a lot, always cold, doesn’t understand people well. Looks kind of like you, except not really. I mean, your guys’ faces and hair is totally different.”

“Oh, you mean Rhea,” I corrected, as there was no other person I could think of who was like that.

“No, no. Her name’s Remora. She says she knew of Rhea, but was never in the same place as her.”

Hmm...that was a curious thing, all right.

“Sorry, but I don’t think there was anyone named Remora, but you definitely described Rhea. One time, we were all at the bar, and she ordered a screwdriver. So I watched as she sat alone at a table and she pulled out an actual screwdriver. I watched her lick the screw driver, make a disgusted face, then looked around to make sure no one saw her. But I saw everything.”

“Is there a difference in taste?” Demetria asked, and I really had to wonder how someone so dense could exist.

“That’s not the point. The point is that she may have been this serious person who wanted to be left alone, but she was also just a total oddball. Even her attempts to be serious could be odd sometimes. Like one time, she tried to do this verbal takedown on a guy named Douglas Fir by listing out all his negative traits in alphabetical order.”

“I don’t think I could do that, but then again sometimes I wonder if I’m dyslexic,” she replied. Again, not the point.

“Whatever the case may be, I didn’t really think of her that much at the time, other than a few notable occurrences, but looking back, I kinda miss her. Then again, I miss most everyone in that company. Save the really shitty ones, but that’s neither here nor there. I know we were all eccentric amoral people, but it was like a community to me, and it felt like the closest thing I had to a home at the time.”

Really, I could reminisce for days.

“There was this other woman, Aurora B, and I suppose her, Rhea, and I could’ve been a ‘dream team’ except if put in a group, one of us would have killed the other two rather fast, thus negating the need for a group. Aurora because she wouldn’t be able to get us all to cooperate, Rhea because she prefers to work alone and would probably use her teammates as bait, and I’d probably notice something about the both of them that wouldn’t sit right with me and decide they’re both scum. Still, the idea is fun.”

“Wait, Aurora B? There’s an Aurora B in the arctic! She’s got a train and a band of thieves! I stabbed her and she robbed the restaurant I worked at!”

I blinked, then burst into laughter.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! There’s a version of her in this timeline and I bet she’s still just as rowdy! Oh, that must be fun!”

“What? Version of? This timeline?” She seemed confused.

“Yeah, like, you know, time travel and all that. Multiple universes, multiple versions of the same person.” I was surprised she knew about the company and yet didn’t know about that.

“I never considered that…” she muttered, then got up. “I think I’ll take off now. Thank you for that.”

“What? Already?”

“Yeah, I’ll just say that you were too strong for me and leave it at that.”

“Well if that’s all you needed, you should’ve just come by in the daytime. We could’ve had a nice chat over pizza.”

She waved goodbye, as if I wasn’t some dangerous force of nature, and I continued to sit and shake my head.

“I must be getting soft. First I injured someone rather than killed them, then I let the second person just walk away unscathed, and we had a nice little chat. I’m betting the third person who comes by I’ll end up buying them a drink.”

I couldn’t help but imagine the insanity of it all. My howls and laughter echoed through the almost empty building.

Once I calmed myself down, I stared up at the ceiling. How I wished I could fix up the place. Now I had to fix up the vents as well. There was always one more problem.

“What about you?” I addressed my last guest of the evening. “Have you come to kill me or just to chat?”

In one of the nearby rooms, a door opened up. Soon a figure approached me, a long rifle in hand.

“I’ll be quick. I just wanted to confirm that you were who I thought you were,” replied a low, icy voice.

“What, did you stalk her? Were you listening in on the whole thing?” Whoever said guest was, I would have at least liked a knock or something.

“No to the first one. Yes to the second.”

Direct. I liked that, at least.

“So what about the gun? I take it you’re the only person so far who even stands a chance against me.”

“I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”

“Mm,” I mulled it over. “I see. So I take it you know who I am already, but that’s what bothers me. I don’t seem to know who you are.”

“Yes. I’m not sure if you ever saw me. I was never around at the same time she was. I couldn’t have been. For the most part, I was kept isolated from most everybody else. Not that I minded.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t have. So, why Remora?” I wondered. “You’ve got over a thousand different names, don’t you? Couldn’t you have started a new life with one of those?”

“It’s because...I met someone important to me the day I chose that name.”

I shrugged. “Who am I to judge? One time an old man decided to call me Trout. True story.”

It didn’t take much for me to figure out what was going on. Who I was talking to.

“So you’re an alternate version, huh?” I asked. Rhetorical, I know.

“Yes. I am younger than she was, but I went through similar things and took on missions all the same.”

“They used you like a back up, I take it. In case the main one died. Which is what happened. Doesn’t that disgust you?”

“It is what it is.”

Right. Such emotionless responses.

“In a way, though, it’s relieving. Knowing that there’s a version of her that’s still around and can experience freedom, like me.”

“I’m just a version of myself. I’m me. Not her.”

“But you do share several names and a background, yes?”

“She was irresponsible. She knew what her job was and she got tired of it, so she died. That’s all. She didn’t even have to, she just wanted to. Yet people won’t shut up about her when she was never worth the attention to begin with,” she growled, working up a rant. It seemed I actually struck something of a nerve.

“Hey, that’s my friend you’re talking about. Don’t talk about my friend that way,” I shot back.

“You two weren’t friends,” she scoffed. I wondered if that was the most mad she had been in a while.

“I just decided that we were. Seeing as she’s not alive to object, I think I can make that decision,” I gave a sly grin.

“That’s not how that works. Did you two even talk?”

I lifted up my index finger and closed my eyes.

“Once. Just once.”

“About what?”

“Some guy was bothering her and she was uncomfortable, that much I could tell. She also looked ready to break a bottle over his head, and I wasn’t really interested in a fight breaking out. I think I said something like, ‘is he bothering you, queen?’ Then pushed him aside. She looked confused, asked ‘queen?’ And I think I laughed and said not to worry about it. I remember she thanked me, and chattered her teeth while trying to sound out the words to do so. I told her not to mention it and offered to help her with anything if she ever came to me.”

“And?”

“Needless to say, she never came to me. I think when I told her that, she said something like, ‘thanks, I’ll think about it’ while turning her head from side to side, so she probably wasn’t ever going to consider it. But makes me wonder about what could’ve been. Like maybe it would’ve changed something.”

“It wouldn’t. There’s nothing you could have done. That’s just how she was,” she replied, all brisk and choppy.

“Yeah, I guess so. Still –”

“Shut up about her,” she snapped, although her voice didn’t even manage to raise all that much. I could just tell with her gestures. The shake of her fist. Everywhere shook, in fact, like it was more than just a shiver.

“It bothers you that much, huh? Is it the name, or just being reminded?” I really wasn’t trying to push any buttons. I didn’t even realize there were any buttons to push. But I guess that’s what I needed to expect, with there being differences and all.

“No. I’m not bothered. It’s just a name. Just someone who’s not around anymore. That’s just why I think people should shut up about it. That person’s gone. Gone. Poof.”

Real convincing.

“Is it because it feels like you’re constantly being compared to with another version of yourself? Or how people might see her as a superior version of you?”

I waited for a response. When I got none, I figured I hit the nail on the head.

“I’m me. Just me. I’m the only version of me there is,” she concluded. Less robotic, but still choppy. Almost downtrodden in her tone.

That’s fine as long as you believe that.

“What about that friend of yours? Demetria?”

“We’re not friends.”

“But she’s important to you, isn’t she?”

“In a way.”

“So you care about her, then?”

“No.”

“Were you worried I was going to kill her if she found me, so you followed behind?”

“Yes. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

Oh bother. It was fun at first, but now it’s like I was talking to a child.

“That whole aloof thing you got going isn’t a very good look for you,” I lectured.

“I’m not aloof.”

“Sure Jan,” I looked over and replied. “Look, I used to be like you, so I get it. I wanted to do everything on my own and I didn’t have much to share with others. But I’ve been blessed to have met a few good people here and there. I’ve survived due in part to the kindness of others.”

“Well…” She thought it over. “I don’t want to be aloof.”

“Bark like a dog, then,” I commanded.

To my surprise, she did just that: her best impression of a dog barking, anyway. I expected more of a Shiba Inu, but instead it came out as a yip, like a Chihuahua.

I cracked up; burst into laughter. Sides split and everything.

“Now you’re a woof,” I told her.

She growled, and I was inclined to say like a dog, as well.

“I hate you, you know that?” She whined.

“Aw, but I thought you loved puns,” I teased.

Changing the subject, she went back to a topic I thought would make her uncomfortable.

“By the way, do you even know what her last job was?”

Probably referring to the R-word.

“No. I was already here doing my own thing when it happened, so I never got to find out,” I explained.

“Well, if you ever want to know, I can give you Ves’ number.”

OK. Someone I don’t know about. Not useful at all.

“Why? Is she single?”

“Stop that. She’s got a cute wife.”

“Oh? Cute?” I should’ve told her I wasn’t really interested in either, as I knew she was the type to take everything seriously. “Like Demetria?”

“She’s cute too, yes.”

“So you admitted it,” I observed.

“Objectively speaking, anyway. Besides, that’s not the point – Ves was the one who killed her. She could fill you in better than I could.”

I see. She should’ve explained that sooner. I looked over and blinked.

“I don’t have a phone.”

She stared as well, then said, “oh.”

“Well, look: I’m working at this diner in the arctic for these people named Sunny and Ray. They thought I would be fun to work with, and not, well...me,” it seemed like Remora was just trying to proposition me with something, anything. I didn’t understand why. “So if you want to sometime, you could go up there. You’re probably more what they were looking for to begin with.”

I shook my head.

“No thanks. The cold’s your thing. I’m not really tied down to a motif. Besides, I’m a homeless old bat. How do you expect me to get up there?”

“I don’t know. You’re resourceful.”

True. I couldn’t deny that bit. Before I could answer, I started to cough. Like a tickle or a scratch at the back of my throat.

I leaned over and covered my mouth with my fist. Remora looked down.

“Are you sick?”

“Why do you care?” I smiled, even as I continued to cough.

“I don’t, but if you are, I don’t want to catch anything.”

As soon as she said that, the cough went away.

“Don’t worry. It’s not something you can catch.”

“What is it, then?”

If you or a loved one have been diagnosed with meso – no, it’s not that. I don’t think so, anyway.

“Sometimes a cough is just a cough. I’m getting old, anyway. I might die any day now.”

“Somehow I doubt it. You’re like a cockroach.”

“Yeah, but even cockroaches aren’t immortal,” I reminded her.

There was a moment of silence. That moment grew. Nothing more was said. Nothing more that I could recall. I soon drifted off to sleep, the silence having consumed me. In spite of the intrusions, I think I got the deepest sleep I had in a while.

[kazbrekkerrs-remade]

ekrjhak i lov eu and to further enable you: ur thoughts on blue, gansey, ronan and adam and henry? and their group dynamic????? 👀👀👀

Wow this took me ages sorry dfjfhd. Claire... u enable me too much these are my onions <3. Under a cut because I went. overboard :3. I’m probably going to have to shorten this I don’t know if tumblr will even let me post something this long dkshjfhg. (Also I wrote half of this in word so if there’s proper capitalization in places that’s why, don’t let it cloud my image as a cool, laid-back bitch that doesn’t care for grammar.)

i’m starting individually then moving onto group dynamics heh

blue i like blue but it did take a bit of growing on me djjdjhjss. i like her a lot bc i relate to her a lot, but i do think there was a lot of room for improvement. she said she wanted to see the world and make it better but how exactly.. is that a roadtrip? i mean i guess it’s a start in a way, but i think it would’ve been much better if we saw her join an activist organization.. volunteer for a non-profit or something. Also her misguided feminism ah! But I can be a bit more lenient with that bc she was still very young when the series ended so. Also she was revealed to be part tree and then like. Nothing substantial came of it? idk

Ganseyboy! I have to be honest my.. fave uwu. There is a Lot of room for improvement  but I just. Optimist!! insecurities :( also he KNEW he was gonna d*e I’m. sad. Anyway like I said a lot of room for improvement as in like.. not everything is about you king <3 also he needs more… idk I don’t wanna say empathy bc i think that’s something different but like. He needs to realise that what he thinks is best isn’t gonna be the way everyone deals with something, if that makes sense? Like basically the “how do you know what’s good for me?” “THAT’S MY OPINIOOONNNNN!!” vine. THAT SAID I love him so much.. he held up the mouse to his face! And smiled!! mon dieu.. when he made bird jokes to make adam laugh… “am I in your dreams?” AH! In a way, blue and gansey are sons of the same gun: I love them both but there could be more done with them tbh. But I have a lot of fun with Fansey, a.k.a: fatima gansey. Kind of like fanon gansey except no one’s opinion matters besides mine <3 (basically it’s  the *aggressively kicks off shoes* “yee haw”, parts of gansey, and then me giving him the arc he deserves) maybe we could sum it up to “ma’am that’s my emotional support projection character” but like. That’s my business.

ADAM! Previous endorsements include: “might fuck around and become an adam parrish stan account.” “I’ve only had adam for a day and a half but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.” “I go :D whenever I see it’s an adam chapter” (these are more or less verbatim from my previous posts.) that said, I don’t have many fully formed thoughts because I uhhh don’t remember the books that well and also I repress the adam chapters bc they hit too close oops :). tbh I don’t have many complaints at all heh. That’s not to say he doesn’t have flaws but a) I will excuse them because he’s justified, adam does anything problematique and I’m like he can have a little murder. As a treat. and b) I genuinely loved his arc so. No complaints for real!! Also.. adam realising he is capable of loving and being loved…. *kermit meme* I have nearly teared up while writing this. :( one more half baked thought: trc having being “known” as a mark of being loved but then adam being like “i am unknowable” and then there was a moment of him with ronan like “how foolish of him to think he was unknowable”.... *kermit hearts meme intensifies*

RONAN O CLOCK to be honest. I. don’t have any meta or complaints I just love him. I love him a LOT okay.. very much. Big love. Sharp edges tough guy but he names his dream animals chainsaw and gasoline and has a pooping blanket for chainsaw… I can’t remember the quote but that but in cdth where he was like the point is dreamer or not if people are going to get hurt I’m going to stop it… Much to think about. HIS GROWTH. IN THE DREAM THIEVES wow can you believe I read him in TRB and was like ‘I don’t care for him’ ddhfjdhf and then in the dream thieves I’m like.. I have rescinded all previous callouts of ronan lynch. Oops. HE LOVES HIS FRIENDS SO MUCH oh my gosh. Ronan just… he has so much range for feeling!! he feels so much!!! I love that about him so much omg

Henry. Ah. This is where we get kind of controversial jdhjdfh I’m sorry but. I’m going to be honest I like him well enough as a character but I don’t care for him much I’m sorry I just. It’s because he was introduced so late. And only became an important character towards like.. the last half of TRK? I mean, I’d have loved him if he was introduced earlier, hell at least have him come into play in BLLB. The issues I have with him isn’t because of anything about him as a character though, I think it’s all about the way he was handled. I think because he came in so late, there just wasn’t enough time to do justice to the depth that he had, or give him an arc or anything, or enough time to connect with him. Also a part of me feels like he was in there just to kind of tie up Blue and Gansey’s stories and give them something to do after the end of TRK (which sucks because like… making your only canon POC being primarily to develop/give your white characters storylines… (blue isn’t white in my mind but like she was written “colorblind” and when that happens it usually means the author viewed them as white at least in the beginning jhfhgfj. but i don’t remember it too well so if i’m wrong lmk please!)). But probably my biggest problem is: I couldn’t help get the vibe that MS was facing criticism for the lack of diversity and so decided to bring in an asian character. Like, I feel that way bc he came in so late, and because of that he was so half-baked I’m.. gah. GAH. That’s unfair maybe henry is a cool dude hdhfg but I just can’t warm up to him because of this :/

Group dynamics!! With the gangsey I have to *sobs* I love them so much I’m.. what a strange constellation they all were <3

blue and ronan!! BROnan amirite… omg. That moment when blue nearly slips and ronan immediately catches n holds on to her… she would have to remember that :( sons of the same gun. Best friends!

Blue and adam.. gah. As friends it really goes hard. Get you someone who will stab you if you fall too deep into the nether-realm <3 but uhh. As dates. YIKES. Blue really just. Kissed noah while dating him. And didn’t even think for a second “I have a bf” :( not very cool of her to tell gansey about the kiss curse but not telling adam which I mean, I know that happened to show that they weren’t a good match but. Still yikes. Blue was lowkey cheating on adam the whole time during tdt huh :( also bro I am number one stan of the “I wish you could be kissed jane” scene but it happened literally RIGHT AFTER she broke up with adam I’m. relax <3. I wish that was kind of addressed but meh, overall it doesn’t bother me too much. I think they’re great friends :)

Ronan and adam… I can’t talk about it too much. I really can’t!! I really really can’t! the fact that adam goes to gansey like what is love and gansey is like she makes me quiet… and then adam is like “he was so still inside”.. :( omg the bit during trb when ronan is going on a swearing tirade and adam is like “they didn’t start making the civic until ‘73 <3” what a JACKASS I love him. Second secret!! --okay! Wait I have to say: while this one is not really a big deal compared to all their other moments, my favourite quote is “ and he realised that while he’d been looking at ronan, ronan had been looking at him” :uwu face:

Blue and gansey: :3 :33333 maybe it’s the muslim but I really like the tragedy of not being able to kiss :( I would beg just one off you! Under all this! Maybe I’m crying because of the inherent romantic-ness of the night sky with all its stars and late night drives :( wow I love them. Also i know most people find it annoying but I personally love the “I’m never gonna fall for this person” *fast forward to getting to know each other* “ahahah. :) I have rescinded all callouts of ____. she is now my girlfriend (long story)” (not to be confused with enemies to lovers <3 (not to be confused with enemies to friends to lovers <3)) also they can kiss now thank you very much.

Okay I will just preface this with: gansey’s relationships with both ronan and adam have the “how do you know what’s good for me” element to them so I don’t have to address it later hdfgjlfj but bro they love each other so much I’m… “dream me the world… something new for ever night” you’re leaving for TWO DAYS.. gansey gave up monmouth omg what became of that I really forgot khffhk did he get it back. I don’t even need to elaborate on ronan, “ronan would do anything for gansey” :(

ADAM AND GANSEY I been WAITNG for this one! Turn it up! Bro if you saw the whole face I made when I realised it was time for this kdhfhfkhu this is so loaded despite the fact that I cant articulate it <3 the.. idk what to call them. Parallels? Foils? I didn’t take lit sorry but he RANGE we could have had there… remember when gansey was shocked in trk bc :0 you guys came with me and also “they had run for him”. bro their whole relationship had so much. Tension because of their different backgrounds and fundamentally different outlooks because of their backgrounds, and I think if we had seen them properly connect then both of them could have grown from that. I know we see adam understanding gansey a bit better I don’t remember when that happened but I know it did at some point hhdsf but gansey.. never does! Huff and puff. It’s really so FRUSTRATING to me bc that could have key development for gansey but also for adam and gansey’s relationship. And also I feel like we didn’t.. see them try either? Which is so frustrating like idk if it’s a fault on stiefvater’s part or just with YA lit in general that platonic relationships are kind of ignored. Or maybe it’s because idk I remember ms saying she had a lot of issues while writing trk.. but still. We could have really had it all but instead I have to live with “don’t break him adam” I’m (: ok but now I must lighten the mood hjsdhf so might I add: when one of them sees the principal in his crazy funky junky hat and goes “yee haw”… when gansey is like :DDD hey ADAM guess WHAT and adam is like ? and gansey is like oh it was a fully casual problem with the ALTERNATOR of my car of COURSE it was the alternator, it was really simple and I fixed it with much ease :D and adam is like :’D felt like the had hatched a baby bird.. my uwus. ADAM! give me an idea! ALSO if anyone will allow me to venture into adansey territory…. the fact that adam is cabeswater’s magician and gansey now.. is cabeswater in a way. MUCH to think about. I still spend a lot of time thinking about the dryad au the problem is I have never been to progress past the “vague concept” stage of stories and this is why I don’t write dhfjhfdhf. But yes. I think about it often :3

i also like the henry with the gang, i think it could work really well but once again it wasn’t given the time for me to really see it :( also. ronan being racist. and adam laughing along with that. why was that included, ms turn on your location i just wanna talk

okay once again thank you for enabling me claire and i’m so sorry for this monster dsjkhfjkdhg

[nastybuckybarnes]

Distrust  -  Nine

Pairing: Past!Steve Rogers X Reader, Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: After Bucky gets ‘taken’ on a mission gone wrong, Steve blames you for it, casting you out. HYDRA takes advantage of your vulnerable state and is quick to capture you, the team knowing nothing of anything that’s happened.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Language, Minor Triggering things???

Word Count: 2.6K

A/n: Hey guys. This can be the ending if you want, but I plan on posting a part 10/epilogue thing and I’m excited for it. Anyway, enjoy this!!

Edited Poorly Cause I’m Excited Lol Series Masterlist Masterlist

~*~

“She’s made amazing progress so far. I’m very proud of her and I think, if she continues this good work, she could very well be discharged by the end of the month,” June says to Tony, Nat, and Bucky.

“However I think it’s in her best interests to have her own apartment or house or something of the sort. Being... away from the Avengers and the constant reminder of who she was... that was extremely damaging to her mental health. I would like to keep in contact with you all over the next month as we try to figure out a place for (Y/n) to live. I’d also like to set her up with her own job. One with a very flexible schedule. If you have any ideas or anything don’t hesitate to contact me or any of the nurses here. We all want (Y/n) leaving here with her head held high, a good life set ahead of her.”

“I'm sure we could find her a house easily. It’s just, making sure she likes it would be the problem,” Nat says softly. “We could take her house hunting,” Bucky suggests, looking at the other two people.

“That could work. She was talking about having brunch with you all anyway. Perhaps that’s something you could discuss with her over the meal? She’s excited to start her own life away from the clinic, but she’ll need support. Mister Barnes, you’ve been... a pillar in her recovery. And without you, she wouldn’t have come so far so fast. I don’t want you to just go back to how things were. I do not know how (Y/n) would react to that and I don’t want to risk any relapses.” Bucky nods, understanding what the nurse is implying.

“Perfect! We hope to have(Y/n) discharged by the end of the month. But definitely before the tenth of next month.” Nat and Tony smile relieved smiles at each other, and Bucky grins to himself, happy that you’re getting better.

~*~

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” June asks from the driver's seat of the Honda Civic. You look over at her then nod, taking a few deep breaths. “I need to do this. It’s one of the last steps I need to take to embrace everything, ya’know?” She smiles proudly at you as you climb out of the vehicle. You straighten your dress, square your shoulders, then walk into the restaurant.

It’s not completely empty, which is a surprise in itself. Tony enjoys dining alone.

You're grateful for the other patrons of the restaurant, knowing you’d have a harder time doing things if there was nothing but silence in the restaurant.

You make your way over to the greeter, only to be intercepted by a tall man.

“(Y/n)!” Bucky takes your hand and squeezes it gently. You smile up at him and pull him into a tight hug, letting yourself relax for a moment in his embrace.

“Are you sure you want to do this? You still have time to back out,” He whispers into your hair. You pull away and look up into his icy blue eyes. “I need to do this. This is something that’ll help me more than it’ll hurt me.” He nods, taking your hand again and leading you to a booth tucked away in the back of there restaurant.

Sitting at the booth, each with a glass of water in front of them, is Nat, Tony, and Wanda.

You smile shyly at them as they all look up, relieved smiles on their faces. You slide into the booth across from them and Bucky slides in next to you, his hand continuing to hold yours.

“(Y/n). You look so good,” Nat whispers, her eyes moving over your face.

“Thank you. I... I feel good. I feel really good, actually.” Tony smiles at you and takes a deep breath.

“So you’re gonna be let out of there soon, huh?” You nod excitedly and start talking about your mental health and all the progress you’ve made.

“That’s wonderful, (Y/n). We’re all so happy that you’re getting so much better!” Wanda exclaims after you’ve finished speaking.

A waiter sets food you don’t remember ordering down on the table. Bucky nudges you and winks, letting you know that he ordered you your favourite.

“I’m happy too. I’m excited to start... living again. To have my own place and a job and a life. It’s scary and I know it’s gonna be really hard and I’ll have really bad days that’ll break me, but... it’s worth it. I know that no matter how hard it gets, I’ll have people to turn to, and that’s all that really matters anyway.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes as they think about what you’ve said while you all eat.

“I was thinking... maybe I could take you house-hunting? I mean, when you’re ready. I know that seeing us might set you back a bit in your recovery, but when you’re ready to see us again, I’d like to do that with you. Help you find a place to call home.”

You smile at Tony’s offer and nod, “I’d like that, Tony. A lot. I’ve really missed you guys. And... it’s been hard, knowing that seeing you was setting me back. It’s been hard dealing with how much pain I’ve unintentionally caused. June says I shouldn’t worry about you guys because you’re all worried about me, but I can’t help it.”

Bucky wraps his arm around your shoulders and squeezes gently, comforting you. You open your mouth, choosing your words carefully then giving up and deciding to just go with your gut.

“June says I shouldn’t push myself too far, but I need to know... how is he?” The four other people at the table stiffen at the mention of Steve.

“He’s... I don’t even know, honestly. For the first month, he was a wreck. He tried to do a bunch of reckless things but the serum prevented most of it from working. After that he buried himself in his work, spending every waking moment doing something. He was distant for a while, but now he’s getting better. He’s been talking to a therapist I think... trying to better himself. He’s been talking abbot how to make things better... how to make you feel better, but so far he’s come up with nothing.” You nod slowly at the new information, your heart hurting a bit as you realize how awful he must’ve felt.

“I don’t want you worrying about Steve, okay?” Bucky asks softly, looking into your eyes with a determination unlike any you’ve seen.

“I’ll try not to, but it’s hard. He used to be such a big part of my life. I think facing him is going to be the final step in my recovery. I think I need that kind of closure,” you whisper.

The others are quiet as they think about this. They know it’s your decision, but they can’t help but feel nervous about it for you. Seeing all the progress you’ve made away from all of them, away from him, it’s not something they want to be wasted.

“If you think you’re ready, we’ll support you. Whenever you want to talk to him, you tell me and I’ll set it up. Whether that be in the clinic, in a therapists office, in a restaurant, or in a park. I’ll be there if you want me to be,” Bucky says softly. The others nod their agreement and you can’t help the tears that fill your eyes.

“Thank you guys, so much for everything you've done to help me. I don’t know what I did to deserve you guys but I’m so grateful for you.”

~

“Do you have any idea when you’d want to see him? Just so I can make sure I’m free.” You shrug, swinging your arm between the two of you as you walk hand-in-hand down the sidewalk.

“I don’t know. Soon, maybe. Maybe not. I feel... kinda drained after all that with Tony and them. I need to recharge or something.” He nods, understanding what that feels like.

“I think, you should wait at least a week. Really gather your thoughts and prepare yourself. Then, once you know you’re ready to talk to him and know what you want to say, you can go for it and be... actually prepared and ready for it all. It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be emotionally taxing and might send you in a downward spiral. But I want you to know that I’m going to be here for you... with you, every step of the way.” He stops walking at the entrance to a little park, looking at you with a certain uncertainty in his eyes.

“Thank you, Bucky. Without you... I wouldn’t even be alive right now. I’m so fucking grateful for you and everything you’ve done for me. I don’t know how I’ll repay you, but I know I’ll work my ass off trying.”

He brings one hand up and carefully cups your cheek, shaking his head slowly. “You don’t need to repay me for anything. I’d do what I did a thousand times over again if it means that I get to stand here with you right now. You mean a lot to me, (Y/n), and I just don’t... I don’t want you to ever think no one loves you or no one cares because I do. I always have and I always will.” You put your hand over his and look between his eyes and his lips, your heart hammering in your chest.

“I... Bucky... I...” He smiles and looks at you with nothing but soft adoration in his eyes. “You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to know that I’ll be here. You helped me when I needed help. You saved me when I needed to be saved. I'm returning the favour because I love you, (Y/n). God, I love you.”

You don’t fight anything in your body. You let your mind go blank and push up onto your toes to connect your lips to his in a soft and gentle kiss. A kiss filled with unspoken words on your part and acceptance on his. It’s hesitant and slow and everything you never knew you needed until right exactly now.

His lips are warm as they move against yours, and you can’t help but brush your tongue out against them.

He pulls back after a moment more and chuckles softly, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ll always be with you, (Y/n). You mean the world to me and we’re gonna get through this together. I promise.”

You slot your lips against his once more, this time feeling more secure in what you’re doing as you take control of your life and your heart.

He gently grips your waist as you thread your fingers through his hair, wanting nothing more than to do this for the rest of your life.

~

Steve’s been pacing for the past half hour, a million thoughts running through his mind as he waits for you in front of the large beautiful pond in Central Park.

It’s a calming place, he understands why you chose it. What he doesn’t understand, is why you chose to speak to him.

Before he can overthink anymore, he hears someone clear their throat.

He spins faster than he thinks possible, a little lightheaded for a moment as his eyes focus, and then he’s filled with more emotions than he thought possible for a human to feel at one time.

You’re standing there. Looking beautiful and healthy as ever.

You’re watching him with guarded eyes, but you don’t look broken. Not anymore, and for that, he’s more than grateful.

“Hello, Steve.” He almost crumbles as he hears your voice.

“(Y/n). Hi,” he breathes, stepping closer to you. You take a step back and look over your shoulder.

Bucky steps forwards, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Please, have a seat,” you say while motioning to the bench right behind him. He nods eagerly and sits down. You slowly over yourself beside him, taking some deep breaths as you chose your words.

“Tony says you haven’t been doing very well lately,” you begin, eyes finding his. He swallows hard then shrugs. “I... I just want to help you. But I don’t know how. I know staying away is probably the best thing but there must be more I can do.”

You look down at your hands.

“I’m being discharged in three weeks. Tony and Bucky helped me find a place and Nat and Wanda are helping me decorate and furnish it. Tony’s got me a job lined up and Sam’s and Clint have been helping me go furniture shopping. I’m recovering. I never, ever thought I’d get my life back after everything that happened. I’m so glad that I have, though. But... my life can’t include you in any way at all anymore Steve.”

His head snaps in your direction so fast you swear he cracks something.

“W-what?”

You sigh and look down at your hands. “Being around you... being near you after what you did... that was one of the main reasons why I wasn’t getting better at the tower. But away from the constant reminders of what happened there, away from everything that brings me back to my days with HYDRA... I got better. But I needed closure. It’s wrong to cut you out with no explanation so here it is.”

He’s quiet for a few moments before he sniffles and nods. “I understand, (Y/n). I hope you continue getting better. If you ever need anything and you have absolutely no one else, I’ll always, always be here. You were... are maybe the love of my life.” You take a deep breath and look over at him.

“You were my first love. The father of my first daughter. And the reason why I need to leave.” The mention of his daughter brings a sob bubbling out of his chest.

“I’ll never forget you, (Y/n). I still love you and I fucking wish I never sent you away. I wish… fuck, I wish for too much. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done. For all the loses you've experienced and all the pain. I’m sorry. I hope I’m thoroughly punished for everything I’ve done. I deserve it.”

You shake your head and pick at the skin surrounding your fingernails.

“No. You don’t deserve a punishment. Although it is your fault,” he coughs a sob, “you didn’t directly inflict the majority of the physical pain I endured. So for that, you don’t need to worry.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “But I will. Every moment of every day for the rest of my stupidly long life I’ll worry about you. About what you’re doing, how you're doing. Because you occupy my every single thought. Because I love you still. And I know you don’t love me anymore and I know how awful I’ve been.”

You take a few deep breaths then stand up.

“Thank you, for all the good experiences you gave me. All the sweet memories. Thank you so very much. You were my first love and I know that I won’t forget you. I only hope overtime I remember you as the man I knew before.”

With that, you turn and start walking away, leaving Steve crying softly on the bench as Bucky follows after you.

A weight gets lifted off of your shoulders as Bucky interlocks your fingers again.

This is it.

This is what closure feels like.

It does hurt, a lot more than you thought it would, but now you’re free to start actually living your own life.

Without the weight of your past.

Without any of that baggage.

You’re free.

NEXT

~ 

TAGS:

PERMANENT TAGS:

@smolbeanbucky  @wildefire  @inumorph  @impalatobakerstreet  @nanna022  @mummy-woves-you  @m-a-t-91  @wtfholland  @bookgirlunicorn  @beautifulwisdom2001  @deep-sea-glitter  @mrhiddles-81  @iamwarrenspeace  @bitchacho25  @escapetheshackles  @i-know-i-can @buckyssoul  @avnngrs  @swoonhui  @destiel-artemis

MARVEL:

@fallenangelfangirl  @look-to-the-stars-and-wish  @maladaptive-ninja-returns  @cliffordasparagus  @april-14-blog  @potteritis @momc95  @shakzer00 

DISTRUST:

@sthorkronstrangy  @baebeepeach  @phoenix-whiskey-tears  @canumoveurseatup-no  @marvel13princess  @aplolomq  @crist1216  @its-ray-bae  @littledeadrottinghood  @justendlesssummerfeels  @whitewolfsnow  @multireality  @a--1--1--3  @some-random-stranger-007  @avengemepercy  @20gayneen  @clockworkherondale

Steve Rogers:

@an-anonymoususer

Bucky tags:

@chuuulip  @nerd-without-a-cause  @natashasnight  @dragonrosegardens

[tswiftdaily]

New Reputation: Taylor Swift shares intel on TS7, fan theories, and her next era

Snakes begone. The 29-year-old superstar is back with a new album and a new outlook on life. We go inside the pop monarch's latest chapter.

THE PALM TREES ARRIVED IN FEBRUARY, seven in all, set against a pastel blue backdrop with superimposed stars. It appeared that a new Taylor Swift era was upon us — that the old happy-go-lucky Taylor was not, in fact, dead. Or did it? It wasonly an Instagram photo, just one more picture in an infinite content scroll. But it also came from a pop star known for prodigious hint-dropping, whose fans turn every piece of info into an online archaeological dig.

As expected, the summery post sent Swifties sifting through each detail with a fine-tooth comb. What did the trees symbolize? An overdue vacation? A recently purchased beach house? A secret palm-frond collection? Or maybe, as many surmised, it was new music. One Twitter user predicted that the number of stars in the background of the photo hinted at a single drop: “There’s about 60/61 [stars]️. There’s 61 days until April 26, FRIDAY, a SINGLE RELEASE day!” Another said it was the unofficial announcement of her next LP: “Okay so in this picture there are 4 palm trees on the left (4 country albums). There are two palm trees on the right (2 pop albums). There is one large palm tree in the middle. This represents her new album.” These may sound like ludicrous conspiracy theories — for the record, they were mostly correct — but they fit firmly within the Taylor Swift Musical Universe (it’s like the Marvel Cinematic Universe but with more guitars and fewer Stan Lee cameos).

“I posted that the day that I finished the seventh album,” says Swift about the photo. “I couldn’t expect [my fans] to know that. I figured they’d figure it out later, but a lot of their theories were actually correct. Those Easter eggs were just trying to establish that tone, which I foreshadowed ages ago in a Spotify vertical video for ‘Delicate’ by painting my nails those [pastel] colors.”

It’s now April, and the 29-year-old pop star is in a Los Angeles photo studio, giving her first sit-down magazine interview in three years. She wants to discuss the art of placing hints inside her work, as well as the upcoming record, which she recorded as soon as she finished the Reputation Tour. She’s also keen on detailing her own obsessions, talking up the TV shows, books, and songs that help shape her outlook on life.

Over the past 13 years, Swift has perfected the pop culture feedback loop: She shares updates about her life and drops hints about new music, which fans then gobble up and re-promote with their own theories, which Swift then re-shares on her Tumblr or incorporates into future clues. It’s like a T-Swift-built Escher staircase of personal memories and moments that tease what’s next. “I’ve trained them to be that way,” she says of her fans’ astute detective work. Swift is a pop culture fanatic herself (see: the jean jacket she’s wearing on the EW cover) and has an innate understanding of the lengths her audience will go to be a part of the original creation. “I love that they like the cryptic hint-dropping. Because as long as they like it, I’ll keep doing it. It’s fun. It feels mischievous and playful.”

Through this approach, Swift has designed the ultimate artistic scavenger hunt — and it’s easy to get swept up in its drama, even if you don’t listen to her music. Her moments aren’t always hidden, either. Sometimes Swift highlights aspects of her world just so fans feel like they’re on the journey with her. Like the time in March 2018 when pop singer Hayley Kiyoko was accused of shading Swift after mentioning her name during an interview. On Tumblr, Swift re-shared a fan’s post, adding commentary that defended Kiyoko, which immediately dispelled any conflicts between the two artists; Swift’s post subsequently received more than 29,000 notes. Four months later, she invited Kiyoko on stage during the Reputation Tour to sing her hit “Curious.” Kiyoko returned the favor when she had Swift join her that December at a benefit on behalf of the LGBTQ organization the Ally Coalition to perform “Delicate.” Fans of both artists were elated by the mutual support.

The feedback loop also extends outside of music. In October 2018, Swift broke her silence about politics by publicly endorsing two candidates for office in her adopted state of Tennessee, while encouraging her followers to register to vote. She kept up the civic momentum through Election Day when she asked fans to post selfies after voting; Swift then eagerly re-promoted her favorites on Instagram stories.

This practice of sharing and re-sharing and sharing again is why listeners consider Swift one of the world’s most accessible pop stars, someone willing to not only interact with her audience but invite them to secret listening sessions, or make the occasional surprise visit to their wedding or prom. It’s a symbiotic relationship, one that, as Swift tells EW, helped her dig out of the darker era of reputation. “It’s definitely the fans that made that tonal shift in the way I was feeling,” she says. “Songwriters need to communicate, and part of communicating correctly is when you put out a message that is understood the way you meant it. reputation was interesting because I’d never before had an album that wasn’t fully understood until it was seen live. When it first came out everyone thought it was just going to be angry; upon listening to the whole thing they realized it’s actually about love and friendship, and finding out what your priorities are.”

Then, during the Reputation Tour, she had an epiphany: that despite the caricature that she thought had been created of her, there were many people who saw what others had simply refused to. “I would look out into the audience and I’d see these amazing, thoughtful, caring, wonderful, empathetic people,” she says. “So often with our takedown culture, talking s— about a celebrity is basically the same as talking s— about the new iPhone. So when I go and I meet fans, I see that they actually see me as a flesh-and-blood human being. That — as contrived as it may sound — changed [me] completely, assigning humanity to my life.”

At tour’s end, she channeled that positive energy into the studio, recording the new album in just under three months. But the fast pace won’t mean a short LP. Swift confirmed that her seventh record (she hasn’t announced a title yet; the working nickname among fans is TS7) will include more songs than any of her previous releases. “I try not to go into making an album with any expectation,” she says. “I started to write so much that I knew immediately it would probably be bigger.”

The project will also feature a mix of old and new collaborators (on the candy-coated lead single “ME!” Swift brought in Panic! At the Disco frontman Brendon Urie and coproducer Joel Little, both of whom she had never worked with), but she is unsurprisingly coy about doling out much more information, as if doing so would break the carefully honed T-Swiftian feedback loop. “There’s a lot of a lot on this album,” she says. “I’m trying to convey an emotional spectrum. I definitely don’t wanna have too much of one thing…. You get some joyful songs and you get the bops, as they say.” There’s also, she adds, some “really, really, really, really sad songs,” but “not enough to where you need to worry about me.”

She gives us one more clue: The true distinction between TS7 and reputation is in the delivery. “This time around I feel more comfortable being brave enough to be vulnerable, because my fans are brave enough to be vulnerable with me. Once people delve into the album, it’ll become pretty clear that that’s more of the fingerprint of this — that it’s much more of a singer-songwriter, personal journey than the last one.”

The past month has seen a deluge of Swift activity, from the release of the new single to dropping more hints in interviews about the record and its title, which is apparently hidden somewhere inside the “ME!” music video (current fan guesses include Kaleidoscope and Daisy). But if the Easter eggs from the pop star seem like a business-as-usual routine, she says this album does indeed mark a new era of her life, where she’s been better able to prioritize what’s important to her.

“Our priorities can get messed up existing in a society that puts a currency on curating the way people see your life,” she says. “Social media has given people a way to express their art. I use it to connect with fans. But on the downside you feel like there are 3 trillion new invisible hoops that you have to jump through, and you feel like you’ll never be able to jump through them all correctly. I — along with a lot of my friends and fans — am trying to figure out how to navigate living my life and not just curating what I want people to think living my life is. I’m not always able to maintain a balance, and I think that’s important for everyone to know about. We’re always learning, and that’s something that I also had to learn — that I’ve got to be brave enough to learn. Learning in public is so humiliating sometimes…. Do I feel more balanced in my life than I ever have before? Um, probably yeah. But is that permanent? No. And I think being okay with that has put me in a bit of a better position.” Strong words to live by, to quote, to re-share, to tweet back to her, and see if she’ll respond.

(x)

[kitten-keith]

Again

Klance, some NSFW bits, 5910 words.

Years after their beak up, Keith finally goes on a date and who should come across his little outing, but the man who broke his heart.

You’ve already read the beginning per my post here but I posted it all together because I felt like it, so just scroll past it if you need to.

As usual, I got derailed. There will be a (probably waaaay more nsfw) bonus to this later if I have anything to say about it though.

---

To set the scene, Keith is in a booth sitting across the table from some cute nameless guy, they’re making polite conversation and Keith is smiling, not really feeling much but the effort is there. He’s been single for years now other than a couple one night stands to scratch an itch that never worked. It was time he got back out here and found someone to love as much as he who should not be named.

But god does he love he who should not be named—

Did. God did. Past tense. No current love. No sir.

So, Keith is doing his goddamn best okay.

And the guy across the table is so sweet and so kind and even pretty attractive— though not as attractive as he who should not be named but uhh let’s face it, that kind of luck was pretty unlikely to happen to Keith again.

Someone as attractive as that man who wasn’t going to break his heart? Yeah. Totally. Totally not real.

Ow.

Okay stop.

  “No no I totally agree, it would have been so easy for them to go the right route but they just had to mess it up.” Keith offers to the conversation, fingers tapping awkwardly on the side of the table while they wait for their server to come back with their food.

The guy laughs, and it’s a cute laugh. Cuter even than he who shall not be named because his laugh always sounded so goddamn stupid but—

But Keith fucking loved his laugh. Loved the way he’d look down just before as if embarrassed by how funny he just found something. Loved the way he’d stand around with his jaw gaping like a fish. Loved every stupid thing about that horrible stupid man—

Keith stop, you’re on a date with a cute boy, stop, it’s been years, it’s been actual years, don’t do this to yourself, move on.

Why is he thinking about this dude so much anyway? Is it just the fact it’s a date? It’s a genuine smack in the face to every promise he’d made not to love anyone but that reckless stupid—

  Chill. Chill chill chill.

Why does he feel so nervous? So on display, so judged. The guy across the table from him isn’t even trying to mentally undress him, so this uneasy feeling isn’t coming from him.

Quickly Keith scans the restaurant, looking for some homophobic idiot or someone who thinks it’s gross Keith went out wearing leggings as pants. (He likes them, fuck off.)

He doesn’t find anyone.

He must be imagining it.

Must be.

Must be.

  “Hey, don’t look, but there’s a dude behind you— over by the bar who will not stop staring at the back of your head. I think he spaced out.”

  Space. Lance loved space.

Bad sign.

Keith makes to turn his head and his date laughs again, quickly reaching out to hold his hand and draw his attention back to him, “Hey, I said don’t look!”

Keith looks up into his smile and nods awkwardly before settling on his hand. It stays there, even if Keith is no longer turning. Keith isn’t sure how he feels about it.

It’s been… a really long time since anyone’s held his hand.

He decides he’ll let it be for now. His date seems to like that and casually rubs his thumb over his skin.

  Like Lance used to do.

Ah god it’s been years, is Keith really, really still not ready?! Lance sure was! Lance moved on through the whole damn university’s freshman class before Keith was even done coming to terms with the fact, they were over. Who does that?! Who bleeds love and romance like Lance does and then just— just— trivialize it with a bunch of nobodies while the love of his supposed life curls up on the floor of his dorm trying to figure out what the fucking phantom limb pain is— and let’s face it, he couldn’t just call his brother all “we broke up and it feels like I lost my right hand” cause Shiro would then have every right to disown him.

No. No. Keith should be over this. So fucking over this.

So UNBELIEVABLY FUCKING OVER THIS—

  He looks at his date and stares into his eyes as softly as he’s able, casually reaching over to cover his hand with his in a way he hopes is reassuring.

“Right, right… so what were we talking about?”

His date smiles wide at the movement before his face takes on a more serious edge.

“Oh boy. Now he’s coming over. Shit.”

  Keith pulls a face, about to inform his date he could probably take just about anyone who wants to cause them trouble when a familiar voice crashes through his senses like a bloody train wreck.

  “Knew I recognized that mullet.”

  No.

Keith retrieves both his hands and slips them under the table to grip at his knees.

Of all the horrible luck...

  “Oh— you know him?”

  No gods no please.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening this can’t…!

  “Yeah man. Keithykins here and I go way back.”

  Keithykins. Keith hated when Lance called him that. It always meant he was up to no good which he clearly was at this exact moment.

But Keith couldn’t move. Couldn’t look up. Because Lance’s voice is doing things to him just the way it’s always done and suddenly he’s 19 again, laying right beside the love of his life as he plays with his hair and holds him close, talking about where they’re gonna move when they graduate…

Lance was supposed to move. He was supposed to be gone. He was supposed to be anywhere but here in this bar sliding into the booth next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders and smelling like heaven never truly left him—

  “Lance don’t—”

Lance reaches forward with the hand not currently squeezing Keith’s shoulder and grabs Keith’s chin.

And Keith wants to stop it, wants so terribly to push him off and beat him half to death with a bar stool but—

But between meeting in high school, falling in love, breaking up and the years Keith spent wishing and wishing and wishing for a moment just like this in his delusional heartbroken state… he’s just— he’s just been in love with Lance for so fucking long how could he ever say no…?

  Lance tilts his face up to look at him and Keith could swear it’s like looking at the sun. He’s so bright and beautiful and perfect but it hurts so much it hurts

So much.

How is he still so gorgeous? How have the years not worn him down, made him tired? Made him into something that didn’t have complete and total control of Keith’s heart please—

  “Isn’t that right, kitten?”

  Those words amount to two things in Keith as soon as they’re spoken.

First, it’s fury. Blind, “I absolutely will beat you to death with a bar stool” kind of unadulterated fury. The kind of fury Keith is positive Lance has never before had to witness from him because he was always too cute or too funny or too hot (Jesus, baby, take me now!) to leave Keith in that state for long.

Second, and more pressing, unfortunately, was the way Keith ran through the million other times Lance had called him Kitten.

The “too hot” Lance who put Keith’s rage to better use.

He remembers the burn in his thighs, riding Lance in the backseat of the little blue civic, “you’re doing so well kitten, fuck, taking my cock so well!”

He remembered laying on his stomach in his bed, Lance’s face stuffed between his ass cheeks and humming, “you like this Kitten? You want more?” And Keith’s resounding fucking mewl when he sunk his tongue back into his heat.

He remembered sitting in Lance’s lap at a frat party, waiting for Pidge to finish her experiment so they could take her home, indulging in a couple drinks while Lance kept his arms firmly around his waist pressing small little kisses into Keith’s neck.

“Can’t wait to take you home, kitten…”

Keith remembers faintly how that comment had actually come from Lance’s anxiety over asking Keith to meet his family over the winter break and not just because Keith kept squirming against Lance’s cock that night.

He remembers Lance staring at him for a long while, when they’d gotten the BnB for their anniversary and Keith had tried to cook for them.

He remembers Lance’s fond expression after he’d angrily tossed a partly melted spatula into the sink and screeched at him, “What?! What is it?!”

And Lance had so easily slipped out of his chair, wandered up beside him and pressed their foreheads together, “my god, sweetheart, light of my life, kitten, you are so fucking precious… but please let me make breakfast.”

  And so the fury melted into a single whispered lie.

“I hate you.”

—

  Lance didn’t plan to go out tonight. He had planned to stay home with a barrel of bluebell ice cream and his cat and binge watch whatever new show he could find on Netflix.

But Hunk had insisted.

Nay, nagged!

And Hunk then confessed, after Lance had already agreed under conditions of bribery, blackmail, and the miraculous healing of Hunks weepy broken heart (the faker), that Hunk had arranged a date for him.

Lance had feigned a hint of interest over FaceTime before hopping in the shower and thumping his head into the wall a number of times that would have been questionable if he’d had a roommate.

Because he didn’t want a date.

He didn’t want anything.

He stupidly selfishly threw away the only thing he ever truly wanted for the unknown other and has spent the last few years regretting that decision with every bland girl and boy who could never make his blood run like—

He’d shaken his head, don’t think about him, you’re not allowed to think about him anymore he’s probably off and about with someone who actually deserves him. Who loves him enough to not be a stupid dunce about a thing like true commitment?

If he could go back.

If he could go back, he’d etch his name into his soul, never let go of his hand, never take him for granted again just—

Stop.

Stop it.

Keith was better off this way.

Lance can live in monotony, it’s his punishment.

  Still, he was Lance. And he had an image to maintain. Desire to date or no. He made sure he was dressed like a charmer. Besides, he never really knows does he?

No one will ever be Keith but maybe he can still find some kind of happiness.

Right?

Was he allowed?

He hoped Keith was happy.

He wished Keith was there. Fingers curling in the little tufts of hair at the back of his neck, cracking jokes about Lance’s obsession with his long hair, “you can’t rock it like I can Lance.”

“Like I’d ever want a mullet.”

“You love it.”

I love you.

I love you.

Stupid things he should have said.

He should have said it because even if he didn’t really understand it, he felt it and he knew Keith felt it and if he’d just said it—

  Nope.

Stop.

Not allowed.

  He checked himself in the mirror one last time for any minor imperfections and shot Hunk a text that he was on his way.

Of course, leave it to Hunk to not specify which lounge he was currently occupying and for Lance to make assumptions that it was the usual location.

He was sitting at the bar and had already ordered one drink when he got impatient and sent his best friend another slightly irritated text.

  “I figured when you were inviting me out that meant you’d be here already…”

The response was an immediate

“What?”

And before he could text back his phone was ringing.

He rolled his eyes, took a sip of his rum and coke and pressed accept.

“Where are you, I don’t see you—” Hunk started before Lance replaced his drink and picked up his phone to face himself and the rest of the lounge behind him.

“I’m chilling at the bar since you couldn’t be bothered to—”

Hunk’s eyes widened and he shook his head, “oh man did I not mention?? We’re at the new place that opened up—”

Lance felt the beginnings of his temper about to flare and grit his teeth, “you’re telling me I’m at the wrong place? Dude, what’s wrong with Altea?!”

“Nothing’s wrong with Altea! It’s just that Shay has friends who just started working at The Balmera and we thought why not?”

“Well maybe you should have said something about that earlier!” Lance groaned and pointed his phone away from himself for a moment so he could rub his temples with his free hand before retrieving his drink.

He briefly heard Hunk mumble something just as he lifted the phone up again and when he could see his friends face again, he just had to ask.

“Yo did someone just get shot or something? Hunk what’s wrong?”

“Oh man. Uh. Nothing. You should get out of there though— like I mean. Hurry up and get over here— shit you started drinking— how about an Uber? I’ll order you an uber.”

Lance stared into the screen for a long moment before deciding Hunk could eat shit on his own time.

“Spill it or the first thing I’m doing when I meet Shay is talking about summer camp.”

“You know what? I would take that hit for you. Because we’re bros, now finish your drink so I can call you an uber.”

That? That was too much. There was no way Hunk was going to just take that abuse unless he was trying to cover for something really bad.

Finally, putting two and two together; Lance turned on his stool to investigate the rest of the bar and he immediately zeroed in on what had caused Hunk to get jumpy.

And honestly, he couldn’t blame him considering how fast his own heart jumped into his throat.

“Lance buddy no- just get over here okay? We’ll have an amazing night, Romelle here is like-- super sweet and dying to meet you- Lance come on-”

Lance didn’t look at his phone, barely registered he was still holding it until he heard his plastic cover start to creak under his tightened grip.

“It- It might not even be him okay!?” Hunk persisted.  

Lance isn’t having it. Knew Hunk was spouting nonsense. Knew who that was better than he knew his own name.

  Lance used to wake up every morning staring at the back of his head. Played with the ends of his hair. Kissed his neck. Bit into his shoulder. Gripped his hips. Mumbled sappy little nothings against his skin while the dark-haired angel in his arms started to breathe a little shallow and sway his hips…

Lance had actual heaven and he lost it.

  But there he was. Perfect and beautiful and making small talk with—

Who the fuck was that?

  He doesn’t know how long he’s staring before the beautiful boy turns his head, quick, Lance barely has a moment to register the bars mood lighting glinting off his skin,

But he knows without a doubt.

  Hunk is still begging him to listen, to leave, to go out with him and the girls and pretend this wasn’t happening.

But how the hell was Lance supposed to do a thing like that?

  The universe had presented him with a gift.

A gift he didn’t feel he deserved, but a gift he absolutely wasn’t going to squander.

If there was even a chance. Even a tiny piece of love left inside Keith for him then he needed to know.

If there was a chance in hell that Keith might ever even look at him the way he used to—he needed—

  He hung up on Hunk and walked over without thinking. He spoke before he allowed himself to really look at Keith. He’s so blinded by the angry twisting in his gut when he sees Keith’s beautiful perfect hands in someone else’s grasp— is he still wearing those ridiculous gloves??— man, of course he is.

But then Keith retrieved his hands at the sound of his voice, and Lance follows that motion with his eyes, he really gets to look at him.

His hair has grown out a bit, and he’s broader in the shoulders. Honestly, he’s more gorgeous now than ever. Dressed in black leggings like he used to wear all the time at home, comfortable with one of Lance’s old shirts. Today it’s more black instead, tight, something he probably got before his last growth spurt but only managed to make him look even better as it stretched over his chest and shoulders. Just a little gap of skin at his waist where his shirt didn’t meet the waistband of his pants. Keith’s ivory skin was such a sharp contrast from the darkness he’d bathed himself in it was hard to keep his eyes from being drawn to certain places.

So, he forces himself to look only at Keith’s face then, to see how pointedly Keith tries not to look at him.

He sits down next to him, again without thinking. Maybe because it still feels so damn natural to gravitate to his side.

Lance felt the heat building in his chest, in his face, he knew what he was doing was wrong, he knew he was probably hurting Keith with this but…

Just one more selfish act. He had to look him in the eyes. He needed to see.

  And if there’s nothing in Keith’s eyes for him Lance would leave. A quick peck on the cheek so he can tell himself that was their true last kiss, say something polite, try not to hurt himself on his way out of the bar when he’s positive he won’t be able to see from the stupid tears that would definitely build. But he’d leave. If there is nothing left inside of Keith for him Lance would let him be.

  So, when Lance reaches out and turns Keith’s face to his, recognizing that look, it’s over.

  It’s written all over his face.

The universe has given him a gift. And that gift is a Keith who against all better judgement is still desperately in love with him.

It’s everything in him to not kiss him right there. To not pull him onto his lap and tell the stranger to go. Because Keith is his, has always been his, will always be his.

  “Isn’t that right, kitten?”

  —

By the time his date leaves Keith can’t feel his fingers. Lance’s hands traced circles up and down his side just under the table the whole damn time making Keith feel both dirty and goddamn delighted because fuck, did he miss Lance’s hands but also no, what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck Keith get a hold of yourself?!?

  When his date’s brows furrow and he actually tries— god help his poor unfortunate soul— to ask Keith if he’s okay, if they should go, Keith can’t even look at him.

His skin is hot and he’s sure it plays on his face.

And Lance knows it too, casually reaching an arm up to run through Keith’s hair before pushing him into his chest.

And Keith— damn his pathetic heart—he melts right into him.

“We’ve got a bit to catch up on, so I think Keithykins wants to stay, don’t you Gorgeous?”

Keith hates it. Hates himself. Hates Lance.

But he nods.

  And with that, the stranger is gone and it’s just Lance and Keith on one side of the booth, Lance’s short nails bluntly scratching affectionately at his scalp.

Keith almost imperceptibly pushing closer, afraid that this is all some cruel joke and when he shows just how much love he still harbors in his heart Lance night pull away.

Might mock him.

Might hurt him.  

What other reason could there be for this?

Lance left him. Lance left him to pursue some bullshit ideas about his identity or what the fuck ever, some other piece of crap reason to break up with someone when the truth is you just got bored.

  Because that’s right. That’s what it took Keith so long to figure out.

He left because he got bored. Because Keith wasn’t enough for him anymore. Because feelings didn’t matter because caring for one another didn’t matter. Keith wasn’t attentive enough or hot enough or worth enough—

  “You okay, sweetheart?” Lance mumbles into the top of his head.

He sounds timid now. Way less the menace that just ruined his date and more someone who might actually care about another person's feelings.

Hah.

Yeah right.

Yeah right yeah right yeah right—

Keith shuts his eyes tight and lifts his head, nosing into Lance’s neck.

He knows his actions won’t match his words, but he can’t help it.

  “How the fuck am I supposed to be okay…?”

You’re the fucking devil and I’m still in love with you.

  Lance takes a deep breath and his arms wrap tighter around Keith’s waist now, “yeah I uh… this was probably the biggest dick move of my life, huh?”

Keith snorts, and despite how hard he’s trying, he knows his cheeks are getting damp and Lance will notice soon. He lowers his head back to Lance’s chest to put it off as long as possible.

“You can absolutely beat the crap out of me later,” Lance offers.

Keith nearly counters with “let me carve your heart out and maybe we’ll be even.” But instead he huffs again. Because words are difficult right now.

“I just. Couldn’t pass up the chance to… see you again.”

Keith wants to scream.

“You never realize how big this city is until you start wishing you’ll turn a corner and see someone and it just… never happens?”

Keith knew damn well. Spent years after leaving university, a drop out who couldn’t get his act together again, watching for Lance everywhere, hoping to catch his eye and be offered a smile— a brisk jog over, an apology, an offer to get lunch together. Catch up. Try being friends again. Spend a few weeks dancing around each other stupidly until someone cracks and kisses the other and then Keith could finally feel whole again—

Yeah. Keith fucking knew how uselessly huge this fucking city was because he never saw Lance again.

Until now. Until he selfishly and cruelly let himself in on his date and made Keith feel so fucking much.

Proving to Keith that he hadn’t grown past the boy who’d selfishly decided to leave him in the first place.

“I…Uhm… I’m…”

“An idiot.” Keith grits out finally.

Lance physically deflates under Keith’s weight but nods.

“Yeah.”

“Selfish asshole.”

Lance nods again, slowly shifting his head so he can hide his face in the top of Keith’s hair. Not that Keith can see him anyway.

“Fucked up years of my life and the second I try to move past you here you are to fuck it up even more.” Keith continues. He doesn’t want this moment, wrapped in Lance’s arms to end, but he can’t just pretend Lance didn’t hurt him. Lance’s hold doesn’t weaken but Keith is scared all the same, so he wraps his own arms around Lance. It makes the taller man’s breath hitch ever so slightly but Keith can’t care about that. Won’t.

“You’re a cruel man.”

“I know.”

Keith blinks. The dampness on his eyelashes leaves droplets on his face but he can’t quite grasp the dejected way Lance spoke.

He raises his head, removing the barrier and comfort Lance has found in his hair, and looks him in the face.

“I’m a monster Keith. I know.” Lance says again.

And with those words, staring into Lance’s eyes even as he tries to look away, something clicks in his brain.

“No…” Keith breathes out, head bobbing up for a moment as he tries to make a decision.

Lance sees the motion and his eyes widen but he remains anxious, unsettled under Keith’s gaze. But Keith loves him.

Keith loves him and so he presses a small kiss to the corner of his lips.

“No. Not a monster. I know monsters.” Keith mumbles against Lance’s cheek.

“Stupid. Selfish. Reckless. Sometimes cruel. But you’re not a monster, you’ve never been.”

Keith pushes himself up on the booth seat, turns and throws a leg over Lance’s lap. The area is cramped, and his back is against the edge of the table but fuck it.

Fuck all of it.

Fuck the years of his misery fuck how much pain Lance had caused him. Lance was also the cause of the happiest moments of his life and he wanted that back damn it.

He just. Needs to make sure Lance wants it too.

“Tell me… are you sorry, Lance?”

Lance nodded.

“Did you spend these years wallowing in regret?”

Lance’s eyes looked damp too.

“You have no idea.”

Keith nods, “are you sorry for the stupidly devastating way you just handled things right now…?”

Lance opened his mouth to speak but paused. Keith retrieved his arms from where they’d landed on Lance’s chest in the shift in position and Lance reflexively pulled him in closer.

“I’m not going to lie, I’m only sorry it was devastating to you. I’m not sorry that I get to be holding you right now, that you’re in my lap looking at me like you might actually be willing to come home with me…I’m a dick but I’m not going to spit in the face of the universe.”

Keith rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms, letting them lean against Lance’s chest again.

“You’re a dumbass.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not coming home with you.”

Lance nods quietly at that one. He’s doesn’t seem disappointed, like he knew it was a stretch when he said it.

And it was. And Keith is already letting him off too easy it’s just…

Keith really wants to kiss him. Really wants to go home with him and forget the last few years ever happened. Hold him until morning and know he’ll never leave his side again.

  “You… really hurt me Lance.”

Lance’s brows furrow and he breathes out through his nose and he leans his head forward to press against Keith’s forehead.

“And I am so, so sorry.”

“I could have given you everything— I did give you everything…!” Keith is panicking, because he knows what he wants and knows what he deserves, and he hates that in this moment Lance isn’t both.

And Lance knows it.

  “Baby—baby, I know, I know I don’t deserve you. I know I ruined everything for us but please— if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

  Fuck.

Fuck Keith wanted to believe him.

“How can I trust that…?” His voice sounds weak and cracked and he hates it. “You couldn’t commit to me before how the hell are you supposed to commit to me like that now?”

  “I was a stupid college kid who didn’t know any better. If I could go back to that cute little place we rented on our anniversary— the one where you tried to make pancakes you beautiful absolute chaos creature— I’d have asked you to marry me because living like this, without you has been the worst time of my life and I promise you— I promise—Keith…?”

  “...marry you…?”

  Lance blinks, reaching up with one hand and wiping one of Keith’s wayward tears off his cheek as Keith stares at him with wide eyes.

Lance tries to keep the awkward smile from playing on his face because he realizes mentioning marriage when your ex boyfriend is struggling with the idea of being with your ungrateful ass again something that big should probably wait but…

But it’s true. Lance should have asked Keith to marry him then, and he would happily do so now. If Keith wanted.

  Keith lowers his head and mumbles something short and quick that Lance doesn’t catch.

“Sweetheart?”

  “You don’t really mean that… do you…?”

  Lance sighs and nods, “I do. I know I shouldn’t because I hurt you, but I do. I’ve spent the last few years mourning the life I could have had with you— that we should have had together. Kitten, I promise if you let me I’ll do everything in my power to make sure nothing, especially me, ever hurts you again.”

  Keith feels his resolve breaking. As if he had any left when he sat in Lance’s lap and told him he wasn’t a monster.

“Call me that again…” he mumbles, staring at the collar of Lance’s shirt. It’s a deep v neck, showing off a bit of that firm chest Keith loves so much. He wishes he were staring out of love and not because he doesn’t think his heart can handle looking into Lance’s face.

Lance leans forward again, and Keith can hear the smile on his lips even if he can feel the tension in his arms.

“Kitten…”

“I want to kiss you, but I don’t think I can.” Keith barks abruptly. “Feels like I lose if I kiss you. It’s me giving in and forgiving you. But if you kiss me then it’s you being selfish and careless again. But I want to kiss you. So, so badly.”

Lance remains perfectly still for a long moment before Keith makes a small noise, “Please be selfish one more time…?”

And Lance is gone to do his bidding, one hand at the small of Keith’s back, the other just behind his neck as he captures his lips. Heart pounding so loud in his chest he feels like it might actually kill him. But so is Keith’s. Keith whose arms wrap around Lance’s neck and head to keep him as close as possible. Keith who pushes his body and conforms to Lance’s in a way that makes if feel like they’ve never been apart. They always just fit together like this and always would.

Keith’s lips are soft. Softer than he remembered them. A testament to the effort Keith put into his date before he’d come around to wreck it. But given how Keith slowly moves his lips against Lance’s, that Lance is the one who gets to taste those lips even if it’s just for a moment— well then it was kind of worth it right?

But as quick as it starts, it’s over and Keith is panting with his forehead against Lance’s cheek.

“Thank you.” He breathes out. And Lance can’t help it.

Can’t help but say the words out loud, the ones that he never said when he was supposed to before.

“I love you.”

Keith freezes.

Lance feels his insides start to twist uncomfortably.

Keith slowly raises his head to stare into Lance’s face and Lance knows he can’t hide the fear in his eyes.

“Again.” Keith mouths.

Lance’s face implores him, he’s terrified of these words, of saying them to Keith in this position. Talking about his desire to spend the rest of his life with him doesn’t feel as dangerous. If Keith were to hear those words from his lips and fail to believe him— to call him a liar—

  He’s not lying.

He’s not lying, and Keith will know that and even if he doesn’t, even if Keith is still in too much pain to believe those words are true and he lashed out then— well, Lance deserves it doesn’t he?

  “...I love you, Keith.”

  Keith is silent, staring, his nearly violet eyes bare through him and give nothing away.

  “I always have I was just… too stupid to believe it.. to say it…”

  “Lance…” Keith’s voice is steady. “...again.”

  “...I love you…”

  Still Keith watches.

  “Kitten…?”

  “I guess you are a monster… to say that to me. Here. Now. Of all times and places…”

  Lance feels his heart start to shatter at those words, but it doesn’t match Keith’s face, doesn’t match the way he starts to crawl off his lap but instead holds his hand, keeps their fingers intertwined as he pulls him up off the booth.

  “Now you have to take me home, make me feel it.”

  Oh.

  Keith smiles at him and Lance feels like he’s seeing the sun shine for the first time in years, in the middle of the night in this parking lot.

Lance smiles and Keith feels like the pit of ice that had started in his gut and travelled up his chest  to swallow up his heart so long ago was finally, finally, melting away.

Lance shows him to his newer blue civic. It’s still an old used car but this one is from this decade. Keith hates it, because he says this car doesn’t remember him like the old one does.

Lance laughs but Keith is already leading him, laying back against the passenger side door and pulling Lance down to him.

It’s an invitation and Lance wants to take it but waits. Waits because after everything, every move from here on out is for Keith.

And Keith intends to take advantage of it, “Hey Lance… you can start now.”

“Start....?”

Keith’s fingers tug at Lance’s V-neck, laying his head back against the car and peering up through hooded eyes, “Say it again. And make me feel it.”

Lance stares at him, feels one of Keith’s knees start to slide up his thigh, and he wonders how the hell he ever gave this up. Lance nuzzles into Keith’s neck, extended as it was by his position, and breaths him in, “God, I love you so much.”

Keith huffs, a more pleasant sound than when he’d done so earlier, “Yeah, I knew it, already getting old…”

Lance raises his head so fast, a small whimper in his throat and Keith laughs outright.

“Relax dumbass... one more time.”

“I don’t think I want to, now.” Lance whines.

Keith rolls his eyes, “Again. Lance. Please.”

Lance kisses him instead. It comes as a surprise and Keith’s hand almost comes up to push him away, but Lance is already leaning back, “No, you don’t have to say please. I love you. I’ll say it however many times you need me to, as many times as I can, no matter how much you want to tease me because fuck it I deserve it.”

Keith leans his head back against the car again, “Yeah, you do. But I’ll stop… for now. You can kiss me again instead.”  

  Lance nods and moves back in, lips against Keith’s once again, his hands wandering into Keith’s hair and tugging absently because he still can’t grasp how this might actually be his life again and he needed to latch on to something. Keith doesn’t seem to mind. He’s the first to part his lips, tongue not asking for permission so much as demanding it and Lance can’t give it fast enough.

Lance will do better this time. Make sure Keith never regrets tonight.

  Will also have to dig out that little red box he’d bought so many years ago. Make good on that overwhelming desire that had scared him so much in the first place.

[path-of-my-childhood]

New Reputation: Taylor Swift shares intel on TS7, fan theories, and her next era

By: Alex Suskind for Entertainment Weekly Date: May 9th 2019

Snakes begone. The 29-year-old superstar is back with a new album and a new outlook on life. We go inside the pop monarch's latest chapter.

THE PALM TREES ARRIVED IN FEBRUARY, seven in all, set against a pastel blue backdrop with superimposed stars. It appeared that a new Taylor Swift era was upon us — that the old happy-go-lucky Taylor was not, in fact, dead. Or did it? It was only an Instagram photo, just one more picture in an infinite content scroll. But it also came from a pop star known for prodigious hint-dropping, whose fans turn every piece of info into an online archaeological dig.

As expected, the summery post sent Swifties sifting through each detail with a fine-tooth comb. What did the trees symbolize? An overdue vacation? A recently purchased beach house? A secret palm-frond collection? Or maybe, as many surmised, it was new music. One Twitter user predicted that the number of stars in the background of the photo hinted at a single drop: “There’s about 60/61 [stars]️. There’s 61 days until April 26, FRIDAY, a SINGLE RELEASE day!” Another said it was the unofficial announcement of her next LP: “Okay so in this picture there are 4 palm trees on the left (4 country albums). There are two palm trees on the right (2 pop albums). There is one large palm tree in the middle. This represents her new album.” These may sound like ludicrous conspiracy theories — for the record, they were mostly correct — but they fit firmly within the Taylor Swift Musical Universe (it’s like the Marvel Cinematic Universe but with more guitars and fewer Stan Lee cameos).

“I posted that the day that I finished the seventh album,” says Swift about the photo. “I couldn’t expect [my fans] to know that. I figured they’d figure it out later, but a lot of their theories were actually correct. Those Easter eggs were just trying to establish that tone, which I foreshadowed ages ago in a Spotify vertical video for ‘Delicate’ by painting my nails those [pastel] colors.”

It’s now April, and the 29-year-old pop star is in a Los Angeles photo studio, giving her first sit-down magazine interview in three years. She wants to discuss the art of placing hints inside her work, as well as the upcoming record, which she recorded as soon as she finished the Reputation Tour. She’s also keen on detailing her own obsessions, talking up the TV shows, books, and songs that help shape her outlook on life.

Over the past 13 years, Swift has perfected the pop culture feedback loop: She shares updates about her life and drops hints about new music, which fans then gobble up and re-promote with their own theories, which Swift then re-shares on her Tumblr or incorporates into future clues. It’s like a T-Swift-built Escher staircase of personal memories and moments that tease what’s next. “I’ve trained them to be that way,” she says of her fans’ astute detective work. Swift is a pop culture fanatic herself (see: the jean jacket she’s wearing on the EW cover) and has an innate understanding of the lengths her audience will go to be a part of the original creation. “I love that they like the cryptic hint-dropping. Because as long as they like it, I’ll keep doing it. It’s fun. It feels mischievous and playful.”

Through this approach, Swift has designed the ultimate artistic scavenger hunt — and it’s easy to get swept up in its drama, even if you don’t listen to her music. Her moments aren’t always hidden, either. Sometimes Swift highlights aspects of her world just so fans feel like they’re on the journey with her. Like the time in March 2018 when pop singer Hayley Kiyoko was accused of shading Swift after mentioning her name during an interview. On Tumblr, Swift re-shared a fan’s post, adding commentary that defended Kiyoko, which immediately dispelled any conflicts between the two artists; Swift’s post subsequently received more than 29,000 notes. Four months later, she invited Kiyoko on stage during the Reputation Tour to sing her hit “Curious.” Kiyoko returned the favor when she had Swift join her that December at a benefit on behalf of the LGBTQ organization the Ally Coalition to perform “Delicate.” Fans of both artists were elated by the mutual support.

The feedback loop also extends outside of music. In October 2018, Swift broke her silence about politics by publicly endorsing two candidates for office in her adopted state of Tennessee, while encouraging her followers to register to vote. She kept up the civic momentum through Election Day when she asked fans to post selfies after voting; Swift then eagerly re-promoted her favorites on Instagram stories.

This practice of sharing and re-sharing and sharing again is why listeners consider Swift one of the world’s most accessible pop stars, someone willing to not only interact with her audience but invite them to secret listening sessions, or make the occasional surprise visit to their wedding or prom. It’s a symbiotic relationship, one that, as Swift tells EW, helped her dig out of the darker era of reputation. “It’s definitely the fans that made that tonal shift in the way I was feeling,” she says. “Songwriters need to communicate, and part of communicating correctly is when you put out a message that is understood the way you meant it. reputation was interesting because I’d never before had an album that wasn’t fully understood until it was seen live. When it first came out everyone thought it was just going to be angry; upon listening to the whole thing they realized it’s actually about love and friendship, and finding out what your priorities are.”

Then, during the Reputation Tour, she had an epiphany: that despite the caricature that she thought had been created of her, there were many people who saw what others had simply refused to. “I would look out into the audience and I’d see these amazing, thoughtful, caring, wonderful, empathetic people,” she says. “So often with our takedown culture, talking s— about a celebrity is basically the same as talking s— about the new iPhone. So when I go and I meet fans, I see that they actually see me as a flesh-and-blood human being. That — as contrived as it may sound — changed [me] completely, assigning humanity to my life.”

At tour’s end, she channeled that positive energy into the studio, recording the new album in just under three months. But the fast pace won’t mean a short LP. Swift confirmed that her seventh record (she hasn’t announced a title yet; the working nickname among fans is TS7) will include more songs than any of her previous releases. “I try not to go into making an album with any expectation,” she says. “I started to write so much that I knew immediately it would probably be bigger.”

The project will also feature a mix of old and new collaborators (on the candy-coated lead single “ME!” Swift brought in Panic! At the Disco frontman Brendon Urie and coproducer Joel Little, both of whom she had never worked with), but she is unsurprisingly coy about doling out much more information, as if doing so would break the carefully honed T-Swiftian feedback loop. “There’s a lot of a lot on this album,” she says. “I’m trying to convey an emotional spectrum. I definitely don’t wanna have too much of one thing…. You get some joyful songs and you get the bops, as they say.” There’s also, she adds, some “really, really, really, really sad songs,” but “not enough to where you need to worry about me.”

She gives us one more clue: The true distinction between TS7 and reputation is in the delivery. “This time around I feel more comfortable being brave enough to be vulnerable, because my fans are brave enough to be vulnerable with me. Once people delve into the album, it’ll become pretty clear that that’s more of the fingerprint of this — that it’s much more of a singer-songwriter, personal journey than the last one.”

The past month has seen a deluge of Swift activity, from the release of the new single to dropping more hints in interviews about the record and its title, which is apparently hidden somewhere inside the “ME!” music video (current fan guesses include Kaleidoscope and Daisy). But if the Easter eggs from the pop star seem like a business-as-usual routine, she says this album does indeed mark a new era of her life, where she’s been better able to prioritize what’s important to her.

“Our priorities can get messed up existing in a society that puts a currency on curating the way people see your life,” she says. “Social media has given people a way to express their art. I use it to connect with fans. But on the downside you feel like there are 3 trillion new invisible hoops that you have to jump through, and you feel like you’ll never be able to jump through them all correctly. I — along with a lot of my friends and fans — am trying to figure out how to navigate living my life and not just curating what I want people to think living my life is. I’m not always able to maintain a balance, and I think that’s important for everyone to know about. We’re always learning, and that’s something that I also had to learn — that I’ve got to be brave enough to learn. Learning in public is so humiliating sometimes… Do I feel more balanced in my life than I ever have before? Um, probably yeah. But is that permanent? No. And I think being okay with that has put me in a bit of a better position.” Strong words to live by, to quote, to re-share, to tweet back to her, and see if she’ll respond.

You can read the original article HERE.

[atc74]

Making Circles - Month One

Square(s) Filled: Fake Marriage for @spngenrebingo

Warnings: Case angst, being fake married to Dean, feels, mentions of death

Summary:  Dean and Y/N have to pretend to be married for a case. But this isn’t any ordinary case. Married couples have gone missing from Albert Lea, Minnesota, every six months for the last few years but there is almost zero evidence. People don’t just disappear like that do they? With Bobby and Sam’s help, plus an ally in their new town, they have just under six months to figure it out. Chances are they’ll survive the case, but will their friendship survive their fake marriage?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2342

Written for: @spngenrebingo

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, who says the nicest things and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and also keeps me on a straight line. I heart you! And @alleiradayne for letting me bounce ideas off her, like all the time. 

A/N:  This will be six chapter series, one for each month of the case, plus a bonus epilogue. Loosely based/inspired by the song Making Circles by Christian Kane and I just felt this needed to be written. There will be lyrics dispersed throughout the entire story. I hope you love this as much as I do. The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

Making Circles master list

Month One

“So get this,” Sam started as Dean and Y/N entered Bobby’s kitchen early one morning. “I think I found a case.” Sam turned his laptop around so they can both see the details.

“You sure this is our kind of thing, Sammy? I don’t know man. This looks pretty normal as far as I can tell,” Dean grumbled, taking a seat.

“What else did you find Sam?” Y/N asked, turning her attention to Sam.

“Well, there have been disappearances going back a few years. Every six months or so another couple is murdered. All of these couples seem normal with blue collar jobs and homes, but from what I was able to dig up, nothing out of the ordinary,” Sam explained. “All the homes of the missing couples have been combed over, but all the evidence is at the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension (BCA) in Saint Paul and they have a mammoth backlog. We may not know anything for months, even years. Or possibly never. It isn’t exactly high priority, ya know?”

“You idjits better get a move on,” Bobby addressed Dean and Y/N as he poured a cup of coffee.

“Bobby, we’ve got basically no intel. We have no idea what we’re hunting and you want us to walk in there blind?” Dean argued with his surrogate father. “That’s not smart. Besides, why does it have to be us?”

“Oh, you want me and Sam to pose as happily married couple?” Bobby smacked Dean across the back of the head.

“Dean, it only makes sense. Y/N and I get along too well and it would be weird, pretending to be married to a woman I view as my sister,” Sam made a face at the thought.  

“Dean, we’ve got time. From this report, the last couple went missing just a week ago. That gives us almost six months to figure it out,” Y/N reasoned as she rose from the table, a smile on her face. “I’m going to go shower and pack.”

An hour later, Y/N and Dean sat with Bobby at his kitchen table, Sam having gone out to produce some documents. “Now, I’ve made some calls to a couple of friends in the area. Dean, Jake has a job ready for you in his shop Monday morning. Y/N, I’ve got something lined up for you at the County Library. Here are the keys to the safe house. My cleaning lady should have it ready to go for you by the time you get there and the cupboards should be stocked.”

“Bobby, I don’t like this,” Dean shook his head. “We have no idea what is going on here.”

“Your brother and I aren’t going to let anything happen to you idjits. I got too much time and energy invested in ya to just let you vanish,” Bobby groaned. “Now, there’s one more thing. Two really. Here.” He handed Dean a small box.

Dean lifted the hinged lid, finding two gold rings inside. The pit in his stomach expanded, knowing these rings belonged to Bobby and his wife Karen, whom he had to kill when she became possessed by a demon. The old man never fully recovered from that. “Bobby…”

“This ain’t no time for sentiments, kid. Just take em, okay,” Bobby stomped heavily from the room, the screen door slamming behind him, making Y/N jump from the sound.

“I guess here goes nothing. Mrs. Winchester?” Dean took out the smaller ring and held it up for Y/N to put her hand out. The ring slid easily onto the fourth finger of her left hand. Dean slid Bobby’s ring onto his own finger. It felt heavy on his hand, or maybe it was just heavy on his mind.

Sam returned a few minutes later with the papers they needed, along with new identification cards. “Here are your clean ID’s and marriage certificate. The house is listed in Bobby’s corporation, so that is not a problem. He also set up a joint bank account in both your names, well, new names. This is your proof of insurance and Y/N, there will be a vehicle parked at the house for you. A very unassuming Honda Civic.”

“A foreign car, Sam! Really?!” Dean protested.

“Actually, Honda manufactures models right here in the U.S., Dean,” Sam informed his brother.

“No way my real wife would drive a Japanese car,” Dean mumbled as he looked over the rest of the documents. “Wait...our new last name is Hetfield? Awww Sammy, it makes me all tingly when you remember the little shit.”

“Shut up Dean,” Sam said, turning to Y/N and handing her all the documents. “Safe travels. We’ll be in touch.”

~*~

“Jesus, I have driven a lot of miles over the years, but this is boring as fuck. There is literally nothing but farmland.” Dean pointed out for probably the tenth time in the last two hours. Y/N thanked her lucky stars that they were almost there.

Albert Lea, Minnesota was less than a three hour drive from Bobby’s place. It was close enough that he and Sam could get there quickly if she and Dean needed back up. With any luck, they would figure out what they were dealing with, and they wouldn’t be here long. On the other hand, six months of normal sounded like heaven to Y/N right now after the last few years.

She turned on her GPS as they entered town, programming the address Sam had given her. Within minutes, they pulled up to a quaint, craftsman style home with a long driveway and impeccable landscaping. Dean pulled into the driveway, cutting Baby’s engine.

“Did you know Bobby owned this place?” Dean looked at Y/N.

“I knew he had a couple of safe houses, but I thought they were all like Rufus’ hunting cabin. Not this. This is going to be like living in the lap of luxury compared to the motels we’ve slummed it in,” she chuckled softly, opening her door and getting out of the car.

Dean followed quickly, opening the trunk to grab their bags. “Motels? Shit, this place is even nicer than Bobby’s. I bet we won’t even need tetanus shots from walking around the yard barefoot!” He laughed, slamming Baby’s trunk shut.

They carried in their bags, not having much from living a life on the road, and walked up the front steps to the door. “Mrs. Hetfield, do you have the key?”

“Why yes, Mr. Hetfield. Allow me to do the honors,” Y/N smiled as she took the key and unlocked the door. Dean dropped his bags and scooped her up in his arms, despite her protests. He walked through the door and set her down on a comfortable looking recliner. “Dean!”

“It’s tradition to carry your bride across the threshold!” He told her, grabbing their bags from the front porch.

They took their time exploring the home. There were three bedrooms upstairs with one full bathroom. The updated kitchen had a small island and new appliances. The basement was fully finished with two small bedrooms and another full bathroom. Y/N grabbed two beers from the fully stocked fridge, as promised, and met Dean in the backyard. There was a two car garage, housing one newer model Civic and a large assortment of tools. It had everything Dean would need to maintain both cars. There was also a small shed in the corner of the yard which contained a lawn mower and a variety of garden tools and supplies.

“Wow, Bobby really set us up, huh?” Y/N turned to Dean as they sat on the double swing on the back patio. It was was a beautiful home and yard. Y/N looked forward to working in the garden, making a mental note to grab some books on the subject.

“Yeah, he did,” Dean sighed heavily, finishing off his beer. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Okay. I’m going to run into town and pick up some clothes for work. Do you need anything?” Y/N asked, taking his empty bottle.

“No, I think I’m good. Thanks,” Dean declined, holding the door open for her.

Y/N couldn’t help but see Dean was hiding something, and she knew him well enough by now to see the subtle differences. She decided to let it go for now. It had already been a long day with having this situation thrown at them and the drive. It would take some adjusting on both their parts. She set out in her car, exploring the town a little, finding a couple of diners, coffee shops and a thrift store. She picked out a few new things for Dean as well as a new work wardrobe for herself. Making a quick stop at the butcher shop, she picked up a couple of steaks as well as stuffed burgers, wanting to do something nice for Dean, and well, the man appreciated red meat.

Y/N let the steaks sit out while she started a load of laundry. Dean ambled into the kitchen just as she was putting together a quick salad, the potatoes baking in the oven. “Hey. Thought we could grill, I picked up a couple of Porterhouses.”

“That sounds great. I’ll go get it ready,” Dean acknowledged and slipped out the back door. A few minutes later, she followed, carrying the steaks and a couple of beers, handing one off to him.

“I know we got a lot thrown at us today, but we’re going to get to the bottom of this, Dean,” she tried to reassure him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I promise.”

“We never go into a hunt blind, Y/N. I don’t care if we have six fucking months or not, this ain’t right, and they both know it, too!” Dean snapped and immediately regretted his words, seeing the look on her face. “Hey, I’m sorry. I know you’re stuck in this, too.”

“It’s okay. We’ll get through this together, Dean. It’s what couples do,” she stated, like it was the most simple thing in the world.

“But we’re not a real couple, Y/N. I’ve never been in a real relationship before, not really, and never like this. This apple pie life we’re supposed to live? We’re used to living a lie on the job, but long term? I don’t know.” Dean sighed heavily, turning the steaks on the grill. “I just don’t know.”

Once dinner was ready, they ate in an uncomfortable silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Y/N thinking of ways to help Dean see the positives and Dean working the case in his head, running through the list of monsters he knew and which one could be responsible for the married couples’ disappearances.

Monday arrived quickly, Dean taking off early for his new job at the garage, leaving without so much as a goodbye. Y/N felt her heart continue to sink, and it was only the third day. She readied for work and packed lunches for both of them. She had enough time to swing by the shop on her way to the library.

Y/N pulled up to the garage and stepped out of her car. She walked across the small lot and inside the lobby.

“Good morning, Miss. What can we help you with today?” An older gentleman, about Bobby’s age, greeted her. He was wearing grease covered overalls and a smile on his face.

“I’m Y/N, here to see Dean W-Hetfield please,” she caught herself, covering her slip with a cough.

“Are you the missus? You’re a pretty lady. Dean really out punted his coverage with you, didn’t he?” the old man chuckled, adding a wink. “I’m Jake. Pleased to meet ya.”

“Yeah, I guess he did,” she laughed along with him, knowing Jake already knew their secret and had given Dean this job as cover.

“Hetfield! Yer lady’s here!” He yelled through the door to the service bays.

Dean walked in a few moments later, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. She had seen him work on Baby, and numerous cars in Bobby’s yard, but seeing him now, shed a whole new light on him. This Dean, the one she was fake married to. The one that lived a normal life with a normal job and a wife and a house. She pushed down the simmer in her belly and walked up to her ‘husband,’

“You forgot your lunch, babe,” she smiled, handing him a brown paper bag.

Dean opened the bag, seeing two turkey and bacon sandwiches, chips, an apple and a can of Coke. “Thanks, honey. I guess I was preoccupied.”

“Have a good day. I’ll see you tonight,” she stepped closer and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. She waved at both of them, exiting the shop. “Nice to meet you, Jake!”

And thus began the routine of her bringing Dean lunch at the shop every morning on her way to work. By the fourth day, she invited Jake over for dinner that weekend. She hoped it might put Dean at ease, having someone on their side locally that knew their real story and he didn’t have to fake it around Jake because of the others in the garage.

Saturday morning rolled around and Y/N had done her shopping, picked up the house and made a pie while Dean mowed the lawn and slow smoked a brisket on the grill. She was settling into their new life fairly well but Dean was having trouble adjusting. He came home late most nights and ate his dinner standing up at the small island.

She didn’t know where he was when he didn’t come home straight away, but the smell of stale smoke mingled with his own scent of coffee, leather and motor oil. At least it wasn’t cheap perfume, she thought. At least this Dean, her fake husband, was faithful to her.

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl  @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk  @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke​ @gh0stgurl​ @paintrider13-blog​ @hunterscabin @alleiradayne​ @idreamofplaid @squirrelnotsam

The Dean’s List: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @supernatural-jackles @docharleythegeekqueen @adoptdontshoppets @mtngirlforever

[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on TRH Book 1 Chapter 5

• Now that we are five chapters into this story, now seems like a good time to get the masterlist of this series out! 😁 Which I will be doing shortly after this QT is up. If you've missed the other chapters, you'll be more easily able to find them all there! I'll also be reblogging my TRR series masterlist sometime this week, since my TRR Book 1 Chapter 5 chapter is close to getting finished as well.

• I'm hoping to get this one out early, it's an extremely light chapter for the most part. It's practically filler, filled with little vignettes between the characters here and there and mostly diamond scenes. The heavy stuff inevitably seems to be left for the actual Walker Ranch (sigh).

• Here are the tags to block if you don't want my QTs to clog up your dash: #long post, #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs. For now a friend of mine is helping get the read-mores on the main posts, until Tumblr actually does something to make them work on a phone again.

• TW: Brief mentions of the Dr Ramirez scene in Hana's playthrough, and infertility.

• Screenshot Credits:

Hana - @pixieferry

Maxwell - Abhirio's YouTube channel

Drake - @thefirstcourtesan

Liam - Well, me

• Besides being mostly filler stuff, this chapter had a lot of diamond scenes. Two outfit changes (one OOTD and one lingerie for the LI), a group scene and the book's first character scene (Liam).

• A few people I know have been asking me about the differences between "character scenes" and "LI scenes" (and indeed a lot of people were confused by my use of these terms in my Book 3 QTs). So once I get to my general thoughts section, I'll elaborate on those.

• Title: The Open Road

Alternative Title: Enjoy The Fillers, Dear Fans, Coz You Got A Walker-Storm Comin'!

• We're now on our way to the States, barely days after we got back to our own estate. The Council is looking after stuff in exactly the way they have since we left for our honeymoon, except that now it's lost all its core group members besides Olivia. Her, Hana and Kiara must probably share whatever few brain cells exist in that Council between each other.

• If you've unlocked the "casual clothing" scenes for the LIs in Book 2 (Liam's t-shirt, Hana's crop top, Drake's Henley and Maxwell's muscle shirt and Bubbles necklace), that's what they'll be wearing on their journey this chapter.

• Maxwell is now the self-appointed Royal Entertainment Committee.

• Bertrand WOULD be freaking out about spoons.

• Our OOTD today is an off-shoulder crop top with floral designs, and ripped shorts - paired with a blue and pink statement necklace and a few bracelets. Esther DuPont and literally every other MC is more confident about pulling this outfit off than I will ever be.

• Maxwell suggests the outfit in the Liam, Drake and Hana playthroughs, and Hana suggests it in Maxwell's.

• First Stop: Our old workplace in NY! Our manager is no longer around (probably got fired lol) but Daniel is! Or as I still like to call him, Not-Henney 😂

• Hana is so cutely excited about visiting the place where it all begin, a place she must have till now only heard about in the other LIs' stories. Sigh. Wish we'd brought her here earlier.

• Not-Henney has issues with how little attention Maxwell gave to the MC's origins. @callmetippytumbles points out that there's not much you can expect from an author who put his face on the cover of a book about you. Cmon, Not-Henney.

• Told you "Things are Great" would become a meme.

• He now asks what the experience of being an actual Queen/Duchess is like. You can go for the funny route (glam parties that'll make Beyonce jealous. Oh idk, does Beyonce like an overabundance of apples?), the realistic route (speaking about everyone's expectations weighing on you), and the romantic route, which brings out some cute responses in both Not-Henney and the LIs, ranging from delight to awkwardness.

• Oh snap. The paps are here.

• We make a run for it (in two options, with Daniel's help), and keep driving. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, the MC mentions a motorcycle when speaking about Drake, which makes me wonder in we will end up having a motorcycle scene in Texas itself. I mean, the writers did mention being excited about a scene featuring one in their livestream.

• Maxwell picks the next stop, and it's that engagement barn we built for Liam, apparently. Or the house of Robert, Steve Tennyson's (PM) dad. Where he has found the "biggest ball of string". Only Joy and Hope, my corgis, seem even remotely happy about this.

•

...Okay Maxwell.

Hana needs to roast people more. Roast EVERYONE in that friend group and EVERYONE in that court!

• Fun Fact: This chapter was released on the 50th anniversary of the historic 1969 Apollo 11 moon landing 😁

• As proven from this scene, the few brain cells this group collectively has, all belong to Hana.

• It's now time to check out what the group brought as provisions:

MC: Nothing, she's only here to ask what everyone else brought

Drake: Jerky

Maxwell: Tequila (!!)

Liam: IDK Esther I thought a four-course meal would just fall upon our laps from the heavens

Hana: ME! Bring cookies that I've NOT warmed by the fires wrought from the bowels of the deepest hells??? BLASPHEMY.

As always Hana saves everyone's ass this fine day. I actually quite like this bit with Hana, because it veers a tiny bit more towards "perfectionist" than just simply "perfect". Hana would be the kind of person to worry excessively over being a good hostess, since that's something she's been learning since she was a little girl (remember the tea scene in the flashback).

• We now stop by at Washington DC - Hana's suggestion - because she wanted to look at the cherry blossoms. I was quite chuffed about this when I found out coz I always used to have her down as more of a "plum blossom" girl, and this is pretty close 😁

• That little bit in DC where speaks of the area as "a marvel of both nature and civic engineering" is a nice touch, since Liam has always been associated with monuments and national legends.

• THE PAPS?? AGAIN????

• ...If my spouse and I have to spend ALL our time answering questions about babymaking, where are we going to find the time to babymake, mediapeople? Ever thought of that? Huh? Huh??

• This option is hands down the best fucking option in this chapter lol:

YOU'RE ALL SUCH DORKS ISTG

• We're now in a small town where Liam wants to mingle and be one with the locals. He's not been very successful in doing this in Cordonia (where people can literally look at his face and figure out who he is), but because it's the US and not many people might recognize him here, his chances of not being caught are better.

• This is the first character scene in the new series. It's pretty alright, not a lot of insights or anything, just a simple scene where Liam gets to not worry about acting like a royal, occasionally acknowledge his privilege, be charmingly naive, order milkshakes, and listen to the MC's insights on how she will bring up her/their kid. He does mention it opens some new perspectives on understanding his people, but I'm not sure we'll get to see much of what learnings he will put into action because, yknow, Cordonian commoners are practically invisible.

• This scene is also proof that you can take Liam out of the court but you can't take the court out of Liam.

• It begins with what the MC calls "a sidewalk hello", where she can either guide or massively troll him. The first two options are awkward as hell (I did like the bowing one though lolol coz she tells him he's probably made someone's day with his "courtly manners"), and the third is for Liam to simply ignore the other person and stare at his phone.

• Next scene involves getting Liam to buy groceries...coz he's never brought groceries. Why would he Esther he has a staff.

• They have a choice between fruit, nachos with everything on them (and they weren't kidding about "everything") and chocolates. I chose fruit.

• You also get some cute tidbits about Liam's life growing up in the palace. Here are the important ones:

- Constantine and Eleanor agreed they wanted Liam to be self-sufficient but "disagreed on how far to take that principle" (given what Liam says about her in one of the other options, I'm guessing Eleanor wanted to take it a lot more further).

- Liam can make spaghetti carbonara!!!

- Laundry: So there was this one time Leo and Liam played tag close to a champagne tower at an event, and it fell down. Eleanor insisted they "clean up the mess [they] made. A reasonable lesson in decorum and consequences". I kinda like this little crumb of info considering there is so little we know about her.

- Eating leftovers: Liam used to have sleepovers at Jackson and Bianca's quarters, and he tells us he was "proud to help Drake's mother microwave the leftovers" coz to his little mind he thought that was cooking 😁 I know, I know, I believed my mom when she put a tiny bit of coffee powder in my milk and told me it was actual coffee haha.

- Doesn't know how to do dishes. He knows soap and water is involved lol.

• The final part of the scene involves Liam treating himself at a diner with (what else!) a milkshake, while casually chatting with the MC about how she feels about the simplicity of her past life, and the way she plans to bring up her (or their) own child.

• Liam not immediately understanding that utensils are self-serve reminds me of Hana's confusion at the idea of a McDermots not having wait-staff.

• The MC has options for how to respond to Liam's question about bringing up a child - 1. I'd like my child to be practical and aware of their role, they don't need to learn how to fold a bed sheet or do dishes. 2. I want my child to have a bit of both worlds so that they're more flexible in their approach. 3. My child should be acutely aware of what the common person in Cordonia goes through if they're going to have to rule fairly over them. These three options in some way allow you to imagine what the MC would be like as a mother, and what upbringing this 'heir' might have.

•

I've never actually seen YOU make much of an effort to find out in Cordonia.

• There's also a tiny bit about Regina that follows this optional dialogue if you're married to him, which I really like: Liam states to Esther that those are "wise words from the wisest queen I know", following which she points out that he's lucky Regina hasn't heard it. Liam's response to that is: "after all this time, I think she'd agree with me". Regina's kinda grown on me over the series, and I do hope we see her again!

• Overall the scene's alright. It's there, it's cute, it's filler like the rest of the chapter. Only time will tell if it will actually result in anything in the future, which kind of leads me to wonder what Character Scenes are going to look like going forward (now that the LI scenes mostly perform the function for both characterization and romance). But the biggest takeaway right now for me is what Liam has to say about his parents, and optionally about his mother. I think that may point towards something later on.

• LMAO @ the random stranger in the diner optionally thinking Liam's brother might be Thor. Leo would be pleased 😂 Also a nice touch to see her recognize us again at the lingerie store if we buy both scenes!

• We now have a scene featuring the couples in their hotel bedroom, where the LI and MC have either had a bit of a wild night, or where the MC has just finished her at-home fertilization procedure (if the LI is Hana). There's a little chit-chat here and there about the moments they have now and about privacy, but it's different in the case of Hana.

• You finally get the chance to ask about how she feels, and this is the response:

• That's it then, I guess 😒 I'm honestly not surprised, given how much in a hurry they were to have Hana concentrate on the MC in the doctor's office itself. I'll expand more on this later.

LIAM. YOU FOOL. I'M WEARING IT RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

• Honestly I don't see the point in having the MC suggest the lingerie in Liam's playthrough (the others basically make the suggestion instead, and they say "well, you're wearing that", instead, implying that they're talking about what she has on already) if they're not going to code it properly.

• The actual lingerie scenes are pretty cute! And fun! And comes with cool dialogues options, and this:

• NOW I know why Hana's lingerie was head and shoulders above the rest. SHE WAS THE ONE WHO CHOSE IT.

• So here's a rundown of all four LI scenes:

- Liam: The clerk from the store (who was also the girl who noticed Liam in the Incognito Scene if you bought that) recognizes Liam and the MC, freaks out and closes the store so they can shop in full privacy. The rest of it is cute playful banter, like expressing surprise at this being Liam's first time at a lingerie store. She then chooses black silk boxers with a golden baroque design. LMAO trust the MC to get him a Versace. 😂

- Drake - Tells the MC he likes it when she takes the lead. The MC then gets to ask him whether he would be down to wearing handcuffs or pink feathers. To the second option, Drake claims that he would "wear a tutu and crown if you told me you had a thing for the sugar fairy". LMAO they really are desperate to show us how much they learned from the "pink cake" fiasco. Pity how they couldn't teach themselves to treat their one female LI with respect. Anyway, the MC chooses red silk boxers with polka dots (!!)

- Maxwell - This scene is a fever dream from start to finish. Maxwell is happy and excited and SUPER SUPER enthusiastic, asking the MC to drop a beat so he can break into a dance at the store. The MC chooses blue silk boxers with squid designs on them. EVEN MAXWELL CANNOT CONTAIN HIS SHOCK. (PS: This scene marks the third appearance of "release the kraken!" 😄).

- Hana - Hana has apparently seen shops like these from the outside but has never been to one (same sis same). She speaks of how she never had anyone to do it for, which is why she is so happy about it now coz she can do it for the MC. A sweet, simple conversation. The difference here is that Hana knows what she wants, and chooses the lingerie herself: a beautiful lace and fishnet number with garter belt and stockings. She looks amazing and part of that is because unlike her friends, she realizes that her wife has deplorable fashion sense.

• It's now the next day, and Drake tries really hard to hoodwink everyone into making his "next stop" the Walker ranch, but the Royal Entertainment Committee threatens him with an "intimidating interpretive dance performed by me" (is he going to jump out the car and sing Kiki Do You Love Me too?). It's enough to scare Drake into picking a nicer stop.

• It's now time to listen to some tunes!! Everyone squabbles a little over what music to choose and the MC gets to pick either of them:

- Hana's Choice: A piano concerto that Liam loves, makes Drake cry and Maxwell go all happy-sleepy.

- Liam's Choice: Chartbusters. "Top 40s". Drake is surprised coz the last time they drove together, Liam made him listen to 52 versions of a single Bach sonata, to which Liam cheekily responds that doing so made him figure out which one was Drake's favourite.

- Maxwell's Choice: Some song that Maxwell did a deejay mix to, and apparently Liam (and presumably Drake) lent backing vocals to. Going by Liam's advance apology it must be pretty fucking terrible.

- Drake's Choice: Classic rock tunes that he can do air-guitar to. Liam concedes it has rhythm, Drake responds that it has rhythm and attitude. He tries to do air guitar in the car but Hana, panicking, reminds him that he's the one driving.

- What Would Have Been Bertrand's Choice/We Shall Drive In Silence!: Apparently when the MC says this, Maxwell says that she channeled Bertrand so hard "he flashed before my eyes". The MC reasons that if no one wants to listen to anyone else's music they might as well be quiet. Maxwell tries to bring up other alternatives such as playing his kazoo-tar, at which point EVERYONE agrees that silence is golden.

• This bit is one of my favourites in the chapter. Probably the second after "say cheese" haha.

• It's Hana's turn to drive and Maxwell is helping her by asking she carve that path from her heart. Which she does, even though she has mentally memorized the next twelve steps she needs to take.

• Liam drives, explaining when the MC asks that Drake was his first driving instructor (Drake had his licence already and they may have used a royal golf course or two for practice runs).

• Maxwell finds a new waypoint: Thrilltown. His reasoning is quite poignant (everything is changing, the MC and LI - in some cases him - will be having a child soon and everyone will be busy in their respective roles, when will everyone be together like this again?). The rest of the group comfort and reassure him, stating that they will probably see more of each other now. In any case...perhaps to Maxwell this is like a last hurrah to the carefree life he used to have.

• We start with choosing rides. Maxwell and Drake choose The Accelerator, which Maxwell describes as "fast. furious. and it uses gravity at speeds that Thrilltown can't legally release to the public!". Hana and Liam choose the "gentler" option - the carousel - which has you ride unicorns, griffins, dragons and other fantastical beings.

• I'm surprised the writers don't have him react even a little to the carousel, considering one of his scariest experiences took place on one (Book 1 Chapter 16). Just show him say "yeah...I'll pass" or show some emotion or other. It's like that armoury scene in his playthrough of Book 3 Chapter 11 where Madeleine could mock Liam about his feelings for the MC and Maxwell is pretty much sitting there not reacting. It's so lazy. I can't.

• Carousel with Liam and Hana: I loved this one, very cute. The carousel has fantasy elements and mythical animals, things that both Liam and Hana love. The MC gets to sit on a phoenix (like her optional Valtoria sigil!), Liam on a dragon (like the royal family's old crest! Dom would be proud) and Hana on a unicorn (which suits her particular style of whimsy). It's cute and fun and sounds exactly like the kind of thing Liam and Hana would enjoy.

The Accelerator with Maxwell and Drake: They call it EXTREME, and it lives up to its name. Maxwell is ecstatic obviously because he's a thrill-seeker and a ride like this is completely in his wheelhouse. Drake gets caught red-handed handed actually enjoying the ride.

• We try out something called The Vortex of Terror, where Liam challenges his friends to not scream up until the end of the ride. Ironically he's the first one to cave 🤣🤣

• "I accept your terms, Liam...as long as you're prepared to lose". Badass enough to challenge the king of the country xD (considering the way that ride goes, I think she was right haha).

• I need more Competitive, Sarcastic Hana outside of cute group scenes.

• One of two people can win this challenge: either the MC or Hana. If the MC wins, she gets to hoist herself on the LI's shoulders towards the next ride. If Hana wins, she perches herself on top of Drake's because he's pretty damn tall.

• Our last ride is called "Lover's Leap" and it's pretty much the romantic portion of the group scene, really.

At the end of it, the LI brings you a green candy drink, and then lets you know how this trip to Thrilltown is representative of their journey together and the change the MC has brought to their lives.

• Both Hana and I have no freaking clue what Liam means when he says "I call shotgun" before they head out.

• Lol @ Cordonia having its own version of "Ninety Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall". And of course it's going to feature Cordonian Rubies 🤣

• We now reach the ranch, where those of us who didn't marry Drake meet his mother Bianca for the very first time (in every other playthrough she is called "The Rider" and in Drake's her sprite is addressed by name).

• There ends the chapter, on a 'suspicious' note, the kind that seems to sound like things are suspicious but they're probably not. Bertrand's head must be exploding from the lack of spoons.

General Thoughts:

• It's a good thing this filler chapter exists, even if it's mostly inconsequential fluff, because at least that's one chapter less to deal with BertVannah and Drake and his family.

• It's also pretty expensive because the writers knew their crowd by now and know that that crowd is willing to spend.

• The scenes were in keeping with the mood of the chapter - light and fluffy, lots of friendship and some amount of romance. I ended up liking the free short scenes more than any of the diamond ones this chapter honestly.

• So...on the outset, it seems good that the MC is able to check on Hana, post the visit to Dr Ramirez. Hearing Hana's answer, however, brought back every issue I've ever had with the way they've written Hana.

I mean, sure, not everyone reacts the same way to such painful news. I understand that. But here the writers are basically using Hana to minimize what she's going through. They use her to dismiss her own pain with "oh that's okay, I'm just happy that at least you can carry that baby". All that proves is that the female LIs' experiences and pain mean nothing in front the MC's needs.

I've spoken before about the numerous times Hana's pain had been brushed aside or her space eaten into, to favour particular characters, and this just happens to be a repeat of the same formula. This is especially bad because it proves that the only reason they put Hana through this kind of hell in the first place is so that only the MC can carry the child. Her condition isn't allowed to be anything else other than a plot convenience: not an opportunity to open a conversation on this, nor to help develop her as a character. It's merely a narrative device meant to make coding easier. It's dismissive, lazy and reeks of a deplorable lack of care. And again I have to ask, why put her through this if you're so desperate to ignore it afterwards??

• The other big problem is that considering the gravity of that situation, why is checking on her an option rather than actual default dialogue?? If you choose the option to continue talking about playlists instead, the topic just never emerges again. Again I have to ask, what the hell kind of wife is the MC? I mean even before they got the news, the MC was pretty much doing nothing. She wasn't planning for Hana, she wasn't thinking much in terms of what to do for her, everything seems to just revolve around her even in a scenario where either one could have been a mother.

• The lingerie scene seems to me to have elements of a type of diamond scene in the flagship series - the ones where we could buy new casual clothing for our LIs in NY. The LI requires a new look, the MC suggests for a change and often picks out something that she thinks would work (some of her choices - like Liam's pants or Drake's sunglasses are...questionable 😅), and from then on this would be their option for ultra-casual occasions. The one casualwear scene that is different from all these is Maxwell's: he gets his sleeveless shirt and Bubbles necklace at a shop in Coney Island, during the group scene (I think part of this was that they were attempting a step-by-step LI-upgrade because they were a new couple at that point...which was why his first 30 diamond scene was during the Gala, after they'd been together for a little while. Still doesn't excuse all the ways they ignored his background and history though).

The main difference between the casualwear scenes and the lingerie ones is that the first dealt put the MC and LI in different situations and dealt with different issues (therefore was a scene of its own) and the second really just revolved around the lingerie. Perhaps the lingerie scene would be what you'd call an 'extended outfit option'? As opposed to something that's a scene all on its own?

• I was actually quite surprised we got a character scene in this series. Given how much they'd drastically cut down on them in favour of beefing up their LI scenes more, I was fully expecting not to see them. I do prefer them to the LI scenes sometimes, because my LI is not the only one I want to be keeping tabs on, and I do want to know what's happening in their lives.

• What is the difference between the two? I hear some of you ask. Well, good question because I'm about to launch into one of my long-winded explanations again.

• Diamond Scenes in TRR/H: I've been holding off on writing about these, since I believed that the series probably had done away with character scenes and preferred to use LI scenes for both romance and development. With this chapter, I now understand that's not the case.

• So...simply put, the difference between an Character Scene and an LI scene, is that the first focuses on the same character in all playthroughs (eg. no matter who you are romancing, if you buy these scenes it's Hana who will play Snow Angels with you, or Drake who will go fishing with you), and the second focuses on who you are engaged/married to (eg. If I'm romancing Hana, I will not be going to the movies with Liam. If I'm romancing Maxwell, I will not be having a cake testing session with Drake).

During Books 1 and 2, when the MC wasn't altogether exclusive with any LI as such, each character would have their own specific scene which expanded further on their characterization and gave the MC a chance to learn more about them. Most of the romance in these scenes were by choice, with the exception of a few lines here and there. The writers tried to continue this way of formatting diamond scenes even beyond Liam's proposal, but the amount of backlash from the portions of the scenes that involved the MC cheating on her confirmed LI...kind of made them backtrack on this plan quite a bit.

Book 3 switched the format up a little. It was similarish in a lot of ways to RoE, except that unlike that book (where the other two would disappear once you got engaged to one), we were also friends with the other LIs. Besides outfits and plot development scenes (such as the one in the Nevrakis replica armory with Olivia and Gladys) and group scenes, the book also offered two types of scenes for the reader to connect with the characters they liked:

1. LI Scenes: These scenes are meant for the LI the MC is marrying, and are coded differently based on that. This kind of scene was first used in the series in the first chapter of Book 3, where the MC and LI could comfort each other in the safe house. The initial chapters had a similar approach to the scenes as RoE Book 3 (where Mr Sloan, Leo and Dean all ended up sounding like each other), in that the dialogues sounded pretty cut-and-paste, with little to no actual variations beyond a few things (an example of this was how - in the Book 3 Chapter 6 Spa Scene in Applewood - all the LIs spoke of being "dumb in love" with the MC - which suited certain LIs, but sounded extremely jarring on others.

During Book 3, a high number of complaints about the series revolved around this copy-paste routine for the LIs, mostly because the characters were so different from each other, and wouldn't speak the same or even have the same experiences. Around Book 3 Chapter 8, major shifts began to happen in the way these scenes were written, starting with the Movie-going Scene in Castelserraillian. Post that chapter, and the hiatus, there was a significant decrease in the number of individual character scenes, and an increase in both number and quality of the LI scenes. It is very possible that they found juggling both stressful and dialed back on one to personalize the other further.

2. Character Development Scenes: These were scenes with the LI that you got regardless of whether you were marrying them or not. This scene would be viewed over all playthroughs, with differences based on whether you were marrying them or not. If you were not marrying them, these scenes would appear neutral and the romantic options would simply not be there, or be replaced by more neutral ones. Examples of such scenes include Drake's Cordonian Waltz Scene in Fydelia (Book 3 Chapter 3), Liam's Gastrodiplomacy Scene in Castelserraillian (Book 3 Chapter 7), Hana's Polo Scene in Portavira (Book 3 Chapter 5) and Maxwell's Armoury Scene in Lythikos (Book 3 Chapter 11).

The most important thing to remember is that these scenes are expected to be coded differently (according to your relationship with said LI), not only by adding romantic options for the MC to choose, but also in the actions of the characters by default. For instance, the Fydelia Cordonian Waltz scene in Drake's playthrough incorporates - by default - all the sensuality you should be finding in this waltz, while his friendly playthrough is merely the MC teaching him the basics so they have an edge over Neville. By default, if you buy the Gastrodiplomacy scene as Liam's fiancée, the chocolate souffle you sampled with him would feature at your wedding reception.

I say the scenes were expected to be coded differently, because very often they were not. In a lot of cases the only proof you'd have in those scenes that the LI and MC were even together were from the MC's actions. For instance, even though Hana was going to be a duchess on marriage to the MC, the same as Drake - only Drake got to speak in detail about it. This opportunity came for Hana very briefly only by Chapter 14, well past the midpoint of Book 3.

• So when Book 3 began the formula was mostly "leave the character scenes for developing the LI's issues or getting them to teach something, and concentrate on nothing else but the romance for your LI scenes". However this wasn't exactly workable given how different each LI was and therefore how odd some of their dialogue sounded. The dial back is understandable (though, as someone who has looked through various playthroughs in this book, I can tell you the imbalances found across character scenes were on a whole different level).

• Why I've elaborated on this is to give context to a question I now have about the narrative: what are the Character Scenes going to look like from here on out? Post the hiatus, they would vary - they could be mostly plot-driven, or fun and light but not much depth or variation, or fun and light, and also opening up diverging conversations based on your relationship. Now that they seemed to have locked down some format in this book at least, what's it going to sound like?

The Liam Character Scene today was fun, light, had default differences based on whether you were marrying him or not, but ultimately had very little to give to the story other than a few facts about Liam's home life and (in a way that expands on what we already know about her and her dynamic with Constantine) his mother. What exactly does he learn? What new insights is he getting as a King who self-admittedly exists and operates in a "statesman's bubble"?

It also remains to be seen whether buying this scene will have any effect of future events - like Liam's Applewood Tour Scene, where his retelling of King Fabian's story had an impact on our conversation with Kiara's mother Joelle. I'm probably going to keep track on how these character scenes are being written in this series, considering that we already have a pretty good idea of how their LI scenes are done.

• Twice I've seen Eleanor associated with pasta. In Book 1 Liam mentions simple tomato pasta as a childhood dish that reminded of his mother, and here shortly after he speaks about his parents he mentions knowing to cook spaghetti carbonara. IDK what that's supposed to mean but I'm bringing it up anyway. I'm mean, what if it's a part of Auvernese cuisine 😂

• I guess that's it for this week! Time for me to scram and finish my Book 1 Chapter 5 QT too before the next chapter drops!

[bellatlas]

Iron Dad Bingo: Car Crash

He reached up to pull the mask on and winced, trying his best to do it one-handed. Using his left arm was not happening. He only got the mask halfway down his face before Karen beeped to life. Good enough.

"Good evening, Peter."

"Even'n," he mumbled.

"You appear to have several lacerations and trauma to the neck, as well as fractures and sprains along the left side. Shall I contact Mr. Stark for you?"

"Absolutely not."

"I'm sorry, Peter, but it's protocol to contact Mr. Stark whenever an injury has been detected."

"Karen, noooooooo," he whined softly, but it was too late, and he already heard the dial tone in his ears. Ugh. Why'd she even ask? He dragged his good hand across his face and briefly considered ripping the mask off and throwing it to the ditch below, groundbreaking technology be damned.

But, the line only rang twice before Tony's face filled the screen in front of his eyes.

"Kid? I thought I told you. Drive straight here. No crime-fighting detours. What part of that was confusing?"

Peter groaned. "The drive straight part, evidently"

"What?"

"Nothing. It's nothing, Mr. Stark. I'll… I'll just be a bit late. That's all I was calling to tell you."

He squinted at him with that telltale 'bullshit' twist to his mouth that Peter hadn't seen since the ferry incident. Oh, God, the ferry incident. He shook the ferry incident out of his head and groaned when the motion made his head pound. When had he hit his head?

"You didn't call. How late are we talking?"

"Um." He tried doing the math in his head. He couldn't swing. He couldn't walk. This wasn't going to happen, was it?

He rested his head back on the edge of the curb, relishing in the coolness. He wasn't getting out of this without telling anyone. This sucked. This really, really sucked.

"Peter?"

"Uh… depends. How long would you say it would take to swing one handed to the compound? Or hop on one foot? Or clear a wreck?"

"You- What-?"

"There was a deer." Peter said plainly.

"And you hit it?"

"It and… a lot of other things."

Full text and all chapters HERE because I love the platform on ff. net, or read below.

Peter's nerves felt like a live wire. Crazy and buzzing with energy, dangerously active, even as it felt like his heart was in his stomach and both flopping around haphazardly.

"You sure you've got everything?"

Peter looked around. Phone in the center console. He pat the many pockets of his cargo shorts until he could feel the lump that was his wallet. "Yeah. Yeah, I've got everything.

May gave him a knowing smile as she leaned through the passenger window to give his shoulder a squeeze. "Okay, but can I offer you a tip?"

Peter smirked at her. His sweet, beautiful, amazing aunt who worried way too much. She was going to go gray before Peter so much as got his diploma. "I've got this. I promise."

"I know you do, but just hear me out. If the car starts giving you trouble-"

"Call you. I know."

"No. I was going to say that when the car gives you trouble with turning on, you might want to try using these?" She reached into her purse and pulls out Peter's keychain, car key reflecting the evening sunlight into his eyes, mocking him.

Peter flushed down to his neck as he reached his hand out to take the keys from her. "O-oh yeah. Remembering these uh… might be kinda useful, huh?"

May just laughed. "Alright, my little genius. Have fun and be safe. Call me as soon as you get to the compound."

"I know, May. I will."

"I'm serious! Don't forget, or I'll call Tony and give him an earful."

Peter shuddered. He might actually die of embarrassment from that. "I know you will."

May heaved a sigh and pulled her body out of the passenger side window, clasping her hands in front of her until the knuckles turned white.

"May, are you crying?"

"No!" she yells, but she choked on her words and sniffed, and Peter doesn't need enhanced sight to see the telltale sheen of tears in her eyes. "It's just… the allergies are kind of bad, and-"

"May!"

"-And my baby is growing up!"

"May, it- it's okay. I'm not going that far, I'm just… I don't have to go."

"No, no. Happy tears. All happy tears. I'm proud of you. It's just going by so fast." She brushed the tears away quickly before they could fall and ruin her makeup, and waved him off. "You need to get going. You're going to be late."

"Right. Right." Peter turned the key and the car, well… it didn't roar to life. It more so wheezed and sputtered to life, begrudgingly accepting that it was going to go on yet another journey. It was an old car by then. Really old. Older than Peter, actually, if he had to guess. New cars were expensive. And besides, he didn't think May would give the car up even if she did have the money for a new auto loan. This had been Ben's car, and she was sentimental to a fault. He rolled the window up, thankful that it at least wasn't so old that he had to crank it back up, and there was a rather awkward minute where May was still on the sidewalk next to their apartment building, waving, never stopping, still waving, oh my God, while Peter made the car buck forward and backward again and again in a sad attempt to shimmy out of the parallel spot that May had somehow managed to squeeze into when she'd pulled the car around (seriously, how did she even get into the spot to begin with?) until finally breaking free into traffic. He glanced up into the rearview mirror as he drove away, May shrinking into just a dot behind him whenever her form wasn't blocked by other cars. She hadn't moved from her spot on the sidewalk, and though Peter couldn't tell from the angle he was at, he was sure she was still waving slightly. He'd put money on it.

He shook his head and focused on the road in front of him. All honking horns and red lights and stop, then go, no stop! Until he finally broke through the boundaries of the city and all the skyscrapers and tall buildings faded into the background, replaced by suburbia and trees and greenery. It would be a long drive to the compound. A business party. A superhero only business party.

His nerves jumped again and he looked over to gush to May, only, oh yeah, she was still back in Queens. It was just Peter this time, and the thought felt weird. There was no safety net without her. No 'Peter it's not a four-way stop!' and slamming on the breaks a moment before darting out into traffic.

He rolled the window down and leaned his arm out, feeling the wind wrap around his fingers and tug at them like a kite. Like it did when he would careen between buildings back in Queens. It's freeing, the whole 'driving all on his own thing," though he's not quite sure why. He'd undoubtedly been a lot freer than most other teens his age, what with Happy picking him up at every other location, the stellar- well, maybe not stellar- but extensive New York subway system letting him go pretty much wherever he so pleased… and the whole soaring between buildings thing.

No, he wasn't freer, but there was just something about it. A certain quality he couldn't quite put his finger to. It was like having the training wheels taken off. As one hour, then two hours slipped by and he sped through winding roads, he felt older. More competent. More adult. More trusted. All the things he yearned for most. And, it was kind of crazy that an old beat up 2000 Honda Civic could make him feel like that, but hell. Why fight it? He'd soak in all the joy he could before Tony would inevitably come out complaining about the old car he'd been driving and insist on Happy picking him up next time. Which, wouldn't be happening.

The sun began setting, hanging low in the sky, a piercing orange over the treetops. Peter squinted through his sunglasses and flipped down the visor, but it wasn't enough. Even behind the sunglasses, the bright rays set off alarms in his head. It felt like his head was a pinball machine, pain ricocheting between his ears. He cursed under his breath. For all the good that his heightened senses did for him, they made up for it ten times over in days spent hunched over the bathroom toilet or in bed with the blankets pulled securely around his face because the sights and the smells and the sounds were all just too much.

He couldn't slink down into the seat and tuck his head between his knees then like he so desperately wanted to, though. He was driving. And so, he squinted into the sun, nuclear sirens in his head be damned, and kept driving. It wasn't ideal, though, and maybe that was why when goosebumps pricked up on the back of his arms and he knew something was wrong, he was a bit sluggish in pinpointing exactly what until, literally, it was glaring at him right in the face: a deer in the road.

It stood and stared at him, his headlights beaming back off of its eyes and turning them to a fluorescent blue. MOVE, Peter wanted to scream, but it just flapped her ears at him and continued chewing on a bit of leaf in its mouth.

Peter slammed on the brakes and was thrown against the seatbelt with such force that he worried that it might snap. Either the seatbelt was going to snap, or his collarbone. One of the two. Of that, he was sure.

The brakes locked up, ABS light on the dash be damned, and the car skid, regardless of how quickly Peter pumped the brakes and tried to channel the information from his days falling asleep in the back of the driver's ed classroom at school.

It was too little too late, though, and he quickly realized that there was no way he was going to stop in time to avoid the deer, and also no way he was going to allow that to happen.

He gripped the steering wheel and shoved, using perhaps a bit too much super strength than the job required. The car veered off into the oncoming lane with a thud, Oh God, that was probably the deer, and kept going.

Peter felt his heart leap into his throat because this could not be happening. He overcorrected and pulled the steering wheel in the opposite direction, but it was too big a force on too small a car, and it slid right off the edge of the road.

Peter saw it all happen in slow motion, realized with horror that it wasn't just flat ground on the other side of the road, but a ditch. A big ditch, with water coursing through it from the last rainfall that has to be at least four feet deep. The car rolled into it, and even for Peter's enhanced senses, he wasn't quite sure what was happening.

The sound was, well, deafening wouldn't do it justice. It sounded like his eardrums should have split open. Everything outside the window was a blur, rolling around in a mess of brown and green and black and crunching metal.

Shit, shit, shit, shit. This was going to hurt. Really, really bad. But, there was nothing Peter could do anymore. Nothing he could do to get himself out of the car, to correct its course, to do anything but squeeze the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white and the leather stitching on the wheel gave way from the force, close his eyes, brace himself, and wait.

But, oh boy, he didn't brace himself enough. He couldn't brace himself enough. His neck was thrown to the side and Something in his arm twisted. He heard a brief shattering noise and then the bite of hundreds of little glass shards around him, and was then met with a disgusting mouthful of water, all of it pouring into the car faster than he could manage to catch his breath. Then, oh God, oh God, oh God, the water became hot. Too hot. Way too hot.

The car was still on and running as the water in the ditch rushed from under the hood and burning engine, or maybe the heater core had burst, through the broken windshield, and onto Peter. It didn't matter how it happened. What mattered was that Peter was being burned alive and he couldn't stop a guttural yelp from bursting forward, the sound alien even to his own ears. He jumped, fumbling for the button to release his seatbelt through the almost boiling water, hands turning into claws as he fought to ignore every instinct telling him to get his hand out of the burning water that instant. Finally, he found it, and the seatbelt snapped away from him, Peter jumping out of the hot water and sticking to the top of the car, which was actually the right side of the car now, scanning the damage below him for the one thing he needed to take with him out of this accident: his suit. It was floating in the backseat, and as he reached out to grab it, his left shoulder screamed in pain. When did that happen? In the back of his mind, he remembered a snap and a crunch and please tell him that wasn't his shoulder. He had a sickening feeling that it was.

With the little strength he had left, he shoved his back against the passenger window, the same one May had leaned through to tell him to be careful, to tell him that she was proud of him, which was now the top of the car, shattered the glass, and crawled through, using just his right arm and right leg, because something had happened to his left leg, too, because that was just his luck, to crawl out of the ditch.

He cast a glance over his shoulder at the car. Totaled. It was completely and utterly totaled. How was he going to tell May? For a wild second, he tried to think of any way possible not to tell her. He could swing the rest of the way to the compound, get a new car, with all the same stains on the upholstery, somehow make the money appear out of nowhere.

He groaned, fumbling through his pocket for his phone, which, miraculously, had stayed put. This couldn't be happening. Unmiraculously, it didn't quite survive the water damage. He groaned again, louder this time, and splayed all of his limbs out on the side of the road truly and fully. Karen it was, then.

He reached up to pull the mask on and winced, trying his best to do it one-handed. Using his left arm was not happening. He only got the mask halfway down his face before Karen beeped to life. Good enough.

"Good evening, Peter."

"Even'n," he mumbles.

"You appear to have several lacerations and trauma to the neck, as well as fractures and sprains along the left side. Shall I contact Mr. Stark for you?"

"Absolutely not."

"I'm sorry, Peter, but it's protocol to contact Mr. Stark whenever an injury has been detected."

"Karen, noooooooo," he whined softly, but it was too late, and he already heard the dial tone in his ears. Ugh. Why'd she even ask? He dragged his good hand across his face and briefly considered ripping the mask off and throwing it to the ditch below, groundbreaking technology be damned.

But, the line only rang twice before Tony's face filled the screen in front of his eyes.

"Kid? I thought I told you. Drive straight here. No crime-fighting detours. What part of that was confusing?"

Peter groaned. "The drive straight part, evidently"

"What?"

"Nothing. It's nothing, Mr. Stark. I'll… I'll just be a bit late. That's all I was calling to tell you."

He squinted at him with that telltale 'bullshit' twist to his mouth that Peter hadn't seen since the ferry incident. Oh, God, the ferry incident. He shook the ferry incident out of his head and groaned when the motion made his head pound. When had he hit his head?

"You didn't call. How late are we talking?"

"Um." He tried doing the math in his head. He couldn't swing. He couldn't walk. This wasn't going to happen, was it?

He rested his head back on the edge of the curb, relishing in the coolness. He wasn't getting out of this without telling anyone. This sucked. This really, really sucked.

"Peter?"

"Uh… depends. How long would you say it would take to swing one handed to the compound? Or hop on one foot? Or clear a wreck?"

"You- What-?"

"There was a deer." Peter said plainly.

"And you hit it?"

"It and… a lot of other things."

"Well-" Tony sputtered. "Are you okay? Actually, don't answer that. I'm looking at Karen's data now."

"No. No, I'm fine. Totally, 100% fine."

"Tell me, kid, if whiplash, a sprained ankle, first and second-degree burns, and a broken collarbone is fine, what does your not fine look like?"

"Uh-"

"Yeah. That's what I thought. "

As the adrenaline wore off, the pain, even more than before, set in. "Shit this hurts."

Tony frowned on screen. "What hurts, exactly?"

"Everything," Peter moaned.

"Alright. That's it. I don't care if Karen says there are no life-threatening injuries. We're calling you an ambulance."

"No no no! Karen is right. I'm fine. Just hurts is all. 'M just being dramatic." Even as he said that, a new wave of pain coursed through his left side and it's all Peter can do to swallow hard and not yelp.

Tony's eyes softened. "I know, kid. I know. Just make sure you're in a safe place and hang in there… you sure you're fine? Because if you're not and I didn't call an ambulance-"

"I'm fine, Mr. Stark. Really. I promise."

"So… if you're really okay, then that means I can make fun of you for it now, right?"

"No. No, it does not mean that." He squinted at Tony. "Karen, you're such a tattle-tale," he tacked on under his breath, fully not intending for it to reach Tony's ears, but of course it did anyway.

"Did you just say tattle-tale? Really? You know, Karen wouldn't have to tell on you if you, y' know, did the smart thing and told me you needed help on your own."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. "Ugh. Can you please just quit with the smart remarks and come help me?"

The other end of the line went silent and Peter's heart dropped. Too much. He'd mouthed off too much, and opened his mouth to apologize, but Tony beeped back in before he could.

"I can do exactly one of those things."

'Mph," Peter huffed, and listened to the sound of the Iron Man suit firing up and roaring over the line, and Tony hitting him with a whole arsenal of one-liners the whole flight.

"Would you look at that? He takes down airplanes and cars! He's multitalented!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure you still look absolutely smashing."

"Hey, hey, hey, I heard you got an eight out of ten on your driving test. Guess the other two must have jumped out of the way."

Peter pulled the edge of the mask up - and ow, he forgot about his shoulder again- so that there was room to shove his middle finger into view of the camera.

Tony merely snorted and kept on. Peter closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the curb, the rest of his body on the narrow strip of grass between the road and the ditch. Man, he was tired. More tired than he'd been in a long time.

"Kid?"

Peter just let out a nonsensical "mph" in response, which evidently didn't make it to Tony's ears this time over the sound of the suit in flight.

"Kid!"

Peter cracked his eyes open to the panicked edge in Tony's voice.

"Oh thank God."

Peter arched an eyebrow up.

"Hey, I know Karen said that your injuries weren't on the life-threatening side of things, but what do you expect me to think after you've just been in a wreck, close your eyes, and stop answering?"

"Relax. 'M just tired."

Tony blinked. "No. No, you do not take a nap at the side of the road. Jesus. Do you need a lesson in common sense or something?"

"Probably."

Tony rolled his eyes. "But… you're definitely okay? I mean, I know you're not okay okay, but like- not dying or something."

Peter chuckled. "Yes, Mr. Stark. How many times do you want me to say it until you believe me?"

Until he could see him in person, probably. "Fine. You're right, you're right… More jokes then?"

"Oh, no, no, no, Mr. Stark. I didn't say that!"

He snickered to himself. "Well. Lucky for you, I'm almost there, so I'll spare the rest for the drive back. Happy is on his way."

"No, no, no, not Happy!" But Tony doesn't answer. If Peter had to spend the rest of the drive to the compound in the back of Happy's car, again, watching him shoot disapproving glares through the rear view window, he might actually just choose to jump out the window and hop the rest of the way.

He tilted his head back and saw the familiar form of Iron Man descending from the sky and land next to him with a powerful thud that made the earth- and his head and fractured bone- shake. Ow.

Tony took the helmet off and let out a low whistle. "You look like shit."

Peter stared up at him with half-lidded eyes. "Gee. Thanks."

His forehead creased with worry as he evaluated the scene. "No. I mean that this is worse than Karen made it sound. A lot worse."

"I told you. 'M perfectly fine." He barely got the words out before trying to sit up and pain tearing through the left side of his body with a guttural sort of yelp.

"Hey! Easy!" Tony planted a firm ironclad hand on his shoulder and helped him into a sitting position. "This is not fine. Christ, I almost feel bad for teasing you the whole way here."

"Don't worry. I forgive you."

"I said almost."

With a hand more gentle than Peter would have expected possible for Tony, he peeled back Peter's eyes and shone a light in them.

Peter closed his eyes tight and turned his head to the side. "What are you doing?"

"Your pupils are different sizes."

"That's not good."

Tony pinched his lips together. "No. It's not. Follow my finger with your eyes."

"Mr. Stark. I'm fine. Really."

"Please just do it."

"Okay, okay." Peter relented and followed Tony's pointer finger as he moved it slowly from side to side. What was this supposed to do, exactly?

"Cool. What about that light a second ago? How'd that make you feel? Was it too bright?"

"Uh…" Peter thought. "I guess?"

Tony frowned, the creases on forehead starting to look as though they'd be etched there permanently. "That's also not good."

"Is it not?"

"Nope. Photosensitivity is another concussion symptom."

"Oh. Pshhh." Peter waved him off. "I always think lights are too bright. Think that's why I hit the deer in the first place. Too much sun. To much super sight."

Tony paused to look at him for a moment at that. "We're going to need to do something about that, then."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I really thought I had it."

"You didn't."

"What insightful observation." He was starting to take on too much of Tony's sarcasm. It was starting to scare him, really.

Peter laid back down on the ground and covered his eyes with his hands. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Hey. Don't worry about the crash right now. Just take it easy. We'll get you patched up in a bit, and I'll call someone out here to get the car." He spared a look into the ditch. "Or, y' know. What's left of it."

Peter followed his gaze. "Is there any chance it can be fixed."

"Ha! Nope. This is a 'throw the whole car away' kind of deal.

Peter merely groaned.

"Hey." Tony patted him on the shoulder. "Seriously. Don't worry about the car. You're not the first teen to total the family car and you sure as hell won't be the last. As long as you're okay, the car can be replaced."

"No, it can't."

Tony looked back at the car again. Even being totaled aside, it wasn't a great looking car. Hadn't been for some time. He raised an eyebrow at Peter.

"It was Ben's car."

"Ben?"

"Ben. My uncle. May's husband."

The playful glint in Tony's eyes- the one that always tried to lighten up the situation with inappropriate and poorly timed jokes, was snuffed out in an instant.

"... Oh."

"Yeah."

"Ummm…" Tony and Peter looked over the scene once more. Maybe there was something they missed, some way to fix this. There had to be, right? But, there wasn't. The car was done. It had driven its last mile.

"She's going to be so mad." Peter covered his face with his hands.

"Yeah… yeah, she probably will be."

"Ugh."

Tony kneeled by him and pulled his hands from his face with a strangled "Sorry, oh my God, I'm so sorry!" at Peter's Yelp when the movement jostled his shoulder. "But, May wants you safe. The car is just a reminder of family. You're her actual family."

Peter sighed. "I guess."

"No. Not I guess. You're what matters. End of story."

Peter just let out a huff.

"Well one way or another, we need to get you back to the compound before your shoulder sets weird or something."

"They can set that fast?"

"They can if you're a mutant spider freak."

When Happy pulled up with the car, he was ready to lay into Peter in a far more serious fashion than Tony already had with his jeering on the way over. He could see it on his face.

But, Tony shot him a pointed look. Not the time, and the message sunk in pretty quickly. This wasn't a time for joking around. Tony probably shouldn't have even been joking around, really.

Thank you, Peter silently thought towards Tony, hoping that he'd be able to feel even an ounce of his appreciation. He liked Happy. He really did. And, he knew that Happy begrudgingly liked him back. But having Happy drive him again, and after only his first time out was… completely humiliating.

"Hand me the first aid kit?" Tony asked.

Happy nodded and dig through the glove box as Tony swung into the backseat with Peter.

"You can do x-rays and stuff with that?" Peter questioned.

"What?" Tony looked at him like he had two heads. "No. It's a first aid kit. It has band-aids and stuff."

Peter didn't think it was that far fetched. Tony had successfully made far crazier things before.

"Hold still for me." Tony pulled out a pair of tweezers, and more gently than Peter thought possible, tilted Peter's chin up. "There's some glass in this cut… this is going to hurt."

It did hurt, but not as much as Peter was expecting. Tony was uncharacteristically gentle, smoothing the skin on his forehead and carefully picking out the glass, even with his mechanical arm that he hadn't quite gotten the hang of yet, and with an intensely focused look plastered on his face that was usually reserved solely for late nights in the lab, and even then- only with his good eye - all wordlessly until they finally arrived back at the compound. "Well, that's all I can do. Gotta let the docs fix up the rest. Wait! Actually, that isn't all I can do. Here." Tony reached into the first aid kit and slapped a band-aid on Peter's forehead before grabbing him by his right arm and helping him out of the car.

Peter looked at his reflection in the tinted windows. "Are… are these Spiderman themed band-aids? You have Spiderman bandaids. Wh- what?"

"Limited edition. So don't go using the rest of them up." Tony flashed him a smile and swung Peter's good arm around his shoulders, pulling him close as he stumbled into the compound and up to the med bay.

Two hours, two x-rays, a sling, and an ice pack later, Peter hobbled out to the then dwindling party.

"There he is!" Tony again threw Peter's good arm over his shoulders and showed him off to everyone, but Peter just wanted to crawl into a hole and call it a night. This was not how he wanted to meet the other Avengers. Not by a long shot. After the initial introductions, though, Tony thankfully steered him towards the door outside.

"Mr. Stark? Where are we going?"

"I have a present for you."

"A present?"

"Two- no. Three, actually."

"Mr. Stark, you really-"

"Nope. Shhh. No talking. Take these. Present number one." He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a pair of… "Sunglasses?"

Peter put them on tentatively. "Whoa."

"Same tech that's in your suit goggles. Only, glasses. Because, well… I guess you can't go parading the Spiderman mask around all day anytime you need to dim things out and focus, can you? I… really should have thought about that before. I- yeah. Sorry."

"Wow. These… these are amazing. Thank you. So much."

"Save your thanks, kid." He pat Peter on the back and led him the rest of the way outside where-

"Mr. Stark. You didn't…"

"I did."

Peter looked on at the two new cars - cars! - with awe.

"Figured you and May needed separate cars, anyway. So. Y'know. Two birds, one stone. All that jazz."

Peter didn't recognize the make or model of either, nor did he recognize the gaping sound that somehow he managed to produce, but he was pretty sure that each one was worth more than his entire apartment building and everything in it. Shiny and low and lean, one a subdued dark red, and the other a jet black.

"Oh, that's not all. We uh… we couldn't save everything, or even most things, but we got as many things as we could out of your uncle's old car and installed them where they actually fit. Really just the steering wheel cover and a few decorations that looked like they might have gone on the dash. I know it's not the same, but… I figured it's something."

"I, I, I-" Peter was at a total loss for words. "How can I repay you? I don't even know what to say. What do you even say to something like this?"

"Thank you is a good starting point, usually."

"Yes. Yes. Thank you, Mr. Stark. So much. I- just- what? How did you even get these this fast?"

Tony laughed under his breath and pointed to himself. "Genius billionaire. Oh. One more thing. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, quickly searching something up. "You see this?" he asked, turning the screen towards Peter.

It's a picture of a deer crossing sign.

"I know what it means, Mr. Stark."

"Humor me."

Peter barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn't though. Not after a gesture like this, oh my God. "Deer are in the area and you should slow down and look out for them," he mumbles.

"Congrats. You've passed my driving test." More seriously, he added, "You got lucky you're only this hurt. I don't want to get a call like that again, okay? You're going to make me go gray, and I have too many photo ops to be doing that yet. So just… please be careful. Always wear those glasses during the day. That's how you can repay me."

"I will, Mr. Stark. I promise."

"Good." His mouth twisted to the side. "And- it's Tony."

"Tony." Peter tested the name out. Weird. Wrong, even. Tony was still far too much his superior for him to refer to him by his first name. That was going to take some getting used to.

He looked out at the two new cars and tried to picture them in the parking deck back home surrounded by all the beat-up cars from the last century with different color paint on every part. Oh, they were so going to get robbed.

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Worth It

Worth It - 3k

So this took me two months to write and my computer was being an ass so I’m just now posting this. I hope you guys enjoy anyways!

Requested by @proudfangirloftoomanyfandoms I hope you like it!

Request/Description:  Kurt goes to the mall and meets a non-mutant girl and they fall in love but Charles doesn’t really want her around since she’s just an ordinary human

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of bullying, mentions of violence, and mentions of cheating

Life as a teenager is stressful; you get treated like a child and an adult, your friends expect one thing from you while your parents have standards already set, not to mention— you’re trying to figure out who you are!

And throw on top of that a mutation! Geez, life just throws it all at you, doesn’t it?

—

Every once in a while the X-Men had an opportunity to be normal teenagers. This meant they’d hang out, mess around— normal teenager stuff.

However not all of them knew what a “normal teenager” did, or an American one anyway.

Warren spent his youth cage fighting, Ororo was stealing trying to keep herself alive, and Kurt was in a circus!

Nonetheless, the other four did their best to indulge the three.

—

They frequented the mall. Kurt liked going. Sure most of the time Jean and Scott ditched and went to do couple stuff, Peter and Warren would bond over music, and Jubilee and Ro paired up— But Kurt didn’t mind.

—

Kurt trailed behind Peter and Warren this time around— they were excited to get some punk rock record— and while punk rock was good, Kurt preferred pop.

“You hang around Jubilee and Scott too much. Van Halen is superior to Cyndi Lauper.” “It’s ah preference.” “If you say so— Warren do you have this Kansas album?”

Kurt rolled his eyes and went back to browsing the new release section. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular though.

—

A group of three walked in. Kurt ignored them for the most part— if he didn’t look at them, they wouldn’t look at him. Usually.

“I’m gonna see if they have any new records.” Kurt internally cringed, he didn’t want someone to notice him. But this was a public place— open for everyone, it was wrong to be that selfish.

“Uh, excuse me— I can wait but I just wanted to see if they had this one record I’m looking for. I won’t be long.”

Kurt turned to answer, but he couldn’t speak. Standing there was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life, “Uh… uh… Ja.” “Thank—“

BAMF

“Hey, Kurtie! Did you get any records or tapes?” He shook his head, “No… No. I met this girl, and she vas pretty but I freaked out and bamf-ed away!” “What’s got Kurt so— blue?” “Scott…” Jubilee groaned. “Alright, I’ll admit. That was pretty bad. But still— what’s wrong Kurt?” “I saw this girl in the music store! And zhe was amazing! Zhe zeemed really nice, but I freaked out because— vell I’m blue vith ah accent! And zhe’s normal!” Peter and Warren returned with a bag from the music store, “Dude I don’t think that she’d even talk to you if she was scared. She just seemed confused when you left.”

“We explained to her you get nervous easily. And then she kinda freaked out a little, about how “I didn’t mean to scare him!” “You should talk to her. Maybe apologize?” “Scott.” He shrugged, “Wouldn’t hurt, right? What does she look like anyway?”

“That’s her,” Peter said, nonchalantly motioning toward the group of 3 girls, “The one in the worn out band t-shirt.”

“Okay, it is your civic duty to go and talk to her.” “Vhat?” “You should talk to her. She’s cute and she feels bad for “scaring” you. This is literally a golden ass opportunity for you!” “Are you zure?..” “Uh huh. Now go!” Scott shoved Kurt a little bit in the girl’s direction. She turned away from her friends to see what was going on; Kurt froze, panic ensuing again, but there was a bit of calming relief when she smiled and waved at him.

—

“Hi! You’re the guy from the music store, I’m (Y/N).” “I’m Kurt.”

“Kurt.” (Y/N)’s voice was like an angel’s. He finally understood why Scott loved listening to Jean talk for hours.

“I’m so sorry for frightening you! I thought you saw me and I just feel really bad.” His rail shot up, “Vhat? No, no! It’s fine, really. I’m just not very zocial.” “I still feel guilty. Can I make it up to you somehow?” “Uh, well… Um,” ‘Darn it, Kurt!’ He was struggling to form sentences.

“Willst sie mit mir ausgehen?”

“I… I don’t speak German. I’m sorry.” “Ah! No it’s my fault. I’m just nervous.” “Am I scary?” Kurt shook his head, “No, but ah, you see, I like you... And I was hoping you’d like to go on a date vith me.” “Oh! Yeah, I’d love to!” His face lit up, “Really?” She nodded, “Would you want to see a movie tomorrow night?” “Ja! Does 7pm work?” “Uh huh. Would you wanna see Splash?” Kurt had no idea what that movie was about but he wanted to impress (Y/N). “Zure. I’ll meet you here?” “Yeah! See you then Kurt.”

—

It was almost 7pm and Kurt was nervous. He changed his outfit four different times and was freaking out in a jumbled mixture of German and English.

“Kurt breathe. Just breathe, alright? (Y/N) only speaks English, and she liked you enough to agree to go on a date with you— I’m sure it will go fine.” Kurt nodded, trying to calm himself with Scott’s words.

“Also it’s 6:57.” “AH! I must go! Goodbye!”

BAMF

—

Kurt didn’t see (Y/N), so he went ahead and bought the tickets.

“Boo!” Kurt flinched. “Did I scare you?” He looked at his ‘scarer’ and smiled. “You vish!” She let out a quiet, “Darn it.” “Any- Anyways, I got the tickets. You ready?” “Yeah! Let’s go!”

—

Kurt had some kind of adrenaline rush, Splash was an amazing movie, and he was pretty sure his date with (Y/N) was going fantastic.

“What’d ya think Kurt?” “Oh! I really enjoyed it. I thought Madizon and Allen were a good couple.” “Me too! Tom Hanks is super cute.” Kurt blushed and looked at the ground.

“But I mean… he’s not as cute as you.”  Kurt perked up— tail and all, “You think I’m cute?”

She nodded. “Thank you,” Kurt squeaked.

—

“So… do you have a ride, or…?” Kurt blinked.

“Oh! Right. You teleport. Sorry. I forgot. Which is really rude of me, and— I’m sorry. I’m just nervous, I guess.” “Vhat? Vhy?” “I had a really great time! But I just don’t want it to end or we never end up seeing each other again.”

Kurt nodded. She had a valid point.

Then a light went off in his head, “Can you write your number on the back of my ticket ztub?” “Yeah, yeah!” (Y/N) quickly scribbled her number down, “And… There! You’ll call me, right?” She teased.

Kurt nodded, “Tomorrow. Hopefully.” (Y/N) smiled. “I had a good time Kurt.” “Me too—” She stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Uh, um. Uh…” “I’ll see you soon.” His voice was gone for a moment, like Madison’s in Splash, so he just nodded.

--

“Dr. McCoy, can I use the phone to call zomeone?” “Sure, but long distance calls cost extra. What are you calling someone for?” Kurt fiddled with the ticket stub hidden in his large hand. “I promized (Y/N) I’d call her tomorrow, now today.” Hank smiled, “Sure. There’s a phone in my office you can use.” “Danke zo much!” Kurt hugged the man and disappeared to his office.

--

“Honey, the phone’s ringing! I think it might be that boy you went out with last night!” (Y/N) fell off the couch in shock and ran to the kitchen phone.

“Hello?!” “Iz thiz (Y/N)?” “Yeah! Hi Kurt! How are you?” “I’m great!” “Hey, Blue! Is that (Y/N), your girlfriend?” “Shh Peter!” (Y/N) laughed to herself. Once she heard Kurt usher Peter out, she took that as her queue to talk. “Zorry about him. Peter’s… nozey.” “It’s alright.”   

“Anywayz I was wondering if you’d like to go on another date?” “Yes! I mean, sure. I’d love to.” “Great! I was thinking Wednesday we could go to the park?” “Sounds like fun. I’ll see you Wednesday.” “Bye (Y/N)!” “Bye Kurt!”

—

“Ororo! I need your help!”

—

It may have been March, but when it got dark, it got cold. Which is why (Y/N) brought a coat.

She was heading to the spot she agreed to meet Kurt at.

“Is that? That’s a— Oh my gosh! Kurt?! Is this an ice rink?” “Ya! Come on!” “But I don’t have any skates.” He halted and was at the edge of the rink, “I’ve got zome for you, come on.” She followed him best she could and got to the small bag he had and her skates.

He waited as she put them on and laced them up.

—

“How did you? How did you do all this? The rink closed last week.” “My friend, zhe can, uh, control the veather, and I thought this vould be a fun idea since Allen and Madizon vent skating. I hope you don’t mind—” “You did all this for me?” Kurt nodded, extremely nervous, “Do… Do you like it?” “Kurt I love it! Thank you!” His heart jumped at her reaction. She looked so happy, so full of life— He wanted that. He wanted to make her happy again.

—

Kurt was fidgeting while (Y/N) took off her skates.

“Everything alright?” “Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah.” She smiled, not really buying Kurt’s excuse but she didn’t want to press it.

—

Kurt decided to take (Y/N) home, as she didn’t drive this time.

“Thanks again. For everything.” “Of course.”

(Y/N) stepped onto her front porch, Kurt’s tail wrapped around his leg and squeezed it, to try and help calm some nerves.

“(Y/N)?” “Yeah?” “Vould you… Vould you like to… Vould you like to be my girlfriend?” “Yes! Yes!”

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around him tightly. She could feel him smiling.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, kay?” He mumbled a “Yeah,” and kissed her head.

—

That was four months ago. Kurt and (Y/N) went on many dates since then— more movie dates (obviously), they went swimming, out to eat, they went to the amusement park 30 minutes away from Westchester— he even had dinner with (Y/N) and her mom!

“So when do we get to meet (Y/N)?” “Peter, you’ve met her before. At the mall.“ “Yeah, yeah, when you two first met. But I want to meet her as your girlfriend. There’s a difference!”

“Vell… Zhe’s not a mutant.” “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” “I don’t think Professor Xavier vould vant a non-mutant here.” “That Moira McTaggart pops in all the time, I’m sure he wouldn’t care. It’s not like she’s going to do something bad to us.” Peter had a compelling argument, it really wouldn’t hurt to ask if (Y/N) could visit the mansion, at least one time.

—

“Well… I don’t know Kurt.” “Please Professor? (Y/N) is one of the most trustworthy people I know.” Charles still wasn’t fully convinced. “It vill be one time. Ve’ve been together for four monthz. It’s only fair zhe getz to meet my friendz.” “Alright. I suppose one afternoon won’t hurt anyone.” “Just have to make sure Erik doesn’t visit,” He mumbled. “Huh?” “It was nothing, Kurt.” “Alright, Professor. I’ll zee you around.”

—

“Zoooooooo maybe I’ve got good newz,” Kurt said, twirling the phone cord with his hand. “Which is..?” “You free right now? For the next few hourz?” “Yeah, why?” “I’m coming over.” “Alright.”

And before (Y/N) could even hang up the phone, Kurt was already in her home.

“Hallo engel.” “Kurt!” She jumped up hugged him. “So what’s this ‘good news’ of yours?” “The Professor zaid you come over.” “Like, right now?” He nodded. “What?! Oh geez! I need to get changed. I want to make a good first impression.“ “(Y/N), they’ll love you no matter vhat. You don’t need to ‘dress to impress’ az Jubilee vould zay.” “Are you sure?” He nodded and held her hand giving it a gentle squeeze.   

—

BAMF

You were both suddenly somewhere else. ‘This must be Xavier’s. It’s huge!’ “This is a school?” “Ja! Crazy isn’t it?” “Definitely.” “Come on! My friendz really vant to meet you.”

Kurt led her to some sort of entertainment or living room where the young X-Men were gathered.

“Uh, hi.” (Y/N) nervously waved her hand. “Oh my gosh! Hi! I’m Jubilee. Kurt talks about you all the time.” Kurt blushed and sheepishly grinned, “Zhe’s not vrong.” (Y/N) lightly laughed, “That’s cool. He talks about you guys too. “What does he say about us?” A silver-haired boy asked. “Good things. You guys are really cool and brave, doing what you do. I could never do it.” “It’s hard but it’s the right thing to do.”

(Y/N) got to learn more about Kurt and his friends, and she loved them. Jubilee had already tried to plan a girl’s night with her, Ororo, and Jean. Peter and Scott tried to pry for silly details of their relationship, but (Y/N) didn’t cave claiming, “If you have to ask I don’t think I should share.”

That Saturday was one she would never forget.

Charles, however, didn’t really want (Y/N) around much, since she wasn’t a mutant. So she made do with hanging out with the whole group outside of the stuffy(ish) mansion.

—

“(Y/N)’s been acting differently.” “Hmm?” “I mean I don’t know her well as you do, but she seems more quiet and tired. Everything okay?” Kurt pondered for a moment. She was more quiet and tired, but she said it’s because she had some big tests coming up and her mom wanted her to look for a job.

“I think zo. Zhe’s just vorried about zchool and her mom wantz her to get a job.” “Oh.” Scott wanted to slap himself, people got stressed and tired— that was normal. Why did he even care anyway?

—

“What if she’s cheating on him or something?” Peter and Warren both stared at him. “Dude, that’s crazy. Kurt’s a great guy. Why would (Y/N) cheat?” “I dunno. I think she’s hiding something.” Peter blinked and had confusion on his face; “You have no evidence of anything. Don’t go prying around for it either. Trust me, it will do you better if you don’t meddle with other people’s relationships.” Peter seemed like his speech was based on something else, but Scott didn’t pry further.

—

The phone in the kitchen was ringing. Scott picked up, “Hello this is Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters. How can I help you?” “Um, Scott?” It was (Y/N), she sounded nervous. “Hey, (Y/N). Do you want me to get Kurt? He’s in the library—“ “No! No. Don’t get him. Can… Can you come to pick me up?” ‘Weird request, but okay.’ “Sure. Where are you?” “I’m at school.”

—

She was waiting outside for him. Scott pulled up and he was going to get out, but she ran to the car before he could.

“Thank you so much for doing this. I wouldn’t have asked unless it was a total emergency and it was.” Scott looked at (Y/N) through the rearview mirror, “Everything Alright?”  “Not… Not exactly.”

Scott sighed, ‘Jesus this is just like the car ride I had with Alex when he first took me to Xavier’s.’

“What happened?” “Promise you won’t tell Kurt? I don’t want him to know. Not yet anyway.” “Okay…”

“I broke a kid’s nose.” 

“What?” “I punched this girl— I didn’t mean to break her nose and I didn’t want to hit her! But she’s been really rude to me, and I can handle that, but she said stuff about Kurt…” (Y/N) got quiet. “Are you getting bullied for dating Kurt?” “Kind of. This isn’t the first time I’ve fought back either. It’s just— they deserve it. Kurt’s a sweetheart who wouldn’t hurt a fly! Sure he’s ‘different’, but that doesn’t give people the right to be rude. Not to mention I’m the one getting in trouble for it! My fucking counselor said maybe I should break up with him since he’s “causing issues between me and my peers.” It’s not right.”

Scott peered back at her at the stoplight. She was crying. “Do you want me to take you home?” “N-no— I dunno, I got suspended for two days, and my mom doesn’t know because she’s currently out of town.” Scott sighed, “Look, we have to go to the mansion. I don’t know how else to fix this.” “But—” “I know. You don’t wanna worry Kurt about this yet. Trust me, I get that, but we have to do something. You may not even run into him while we’re here. It’s a big building.”

—

“Professor I’m so sorry about all this.” “Nonsense. This isn’t the worst trouble a student has ever gotten into.” “Maybe for other kids, but I don’t really get into trouble!” “Everything’s going to be alright, (Y/N). Okay?” She nodded, trying not to cry. “Good. I’m going to contact your mother and tell her what happened.”  

“I’ll make sure she won’t kill you, no need to worry.” “Thank you so much, Professor.”

—

Kurt heard (Y/N) came into the mansion with Scott and went straight to Xavier’s office.

So, like any concerned boyfriend, he waited outside Xavier’s office for her.

“Is everything alright?” (Y/N) looked extremely nervous and startled. “It will be. But for now, (Y/N) is allowed to come here whenever she likes.” “Really?!” “Within reason and before curfew.” “Thank you zo much, Professor!” “But I—” “Talk it out with him. He won’t be mad.” (Y/N) nodded and Charles wheeled off.

—

“Iz everything alright?” “I punched a kid in your honor, and even though it’s not what you’d want me to do, I did it anyway.” “Vhat? Vhy?” “I’ve been getting bullied for dating you, and some kid said some pretty mean and untrue stuff about you. So… So I punched them and broke their nose.” Kurt’s face was wide-eyed.

“Hey, hey. It’s gonna be okay. I love you, and those kids are just assholes. Alright?” He didn’t say anything; instead, he just hugged her tightly.

[tyguygoodman]

Mystery Man

At Jefferson high’s masquerade ball, Cyrus follows a trail of notes to find his Prince Charming 

———————————

The repetitive pitter-patter on the window was all Cyrus could hear as he drove his gray Honda Civic through the pouring rain.

He was currently on his way to Andi’s house to meet up the rest of the GHC so they could get ready for the dance. OK, well it wasn’t just any dance. It was a masquerade ball. And Cyrus was so undeniably excited for it.

His cheeks hurt from smiling so much. And even though his suit was slightly tight, he couldn’t care less.

Ever since he knew it existed he’s dreamed of finding some beautiful girl and making her his Cinderella. And he still wanted that! Except now, his plans had changed a little.

Instead of finding some beautiful girl and sweeping her off her feet, he wished more than anything that TJ Kippen, basketball team captain, the most attractive guy in school, his best friend, would be the one to sweep Cyrus off his feet.

The thought made a strange mix of sadness and happiness stir up inside his brain.

Of course, this always happened when he thought about being in a relationship with TJ. Cyrus really truly liked him, but the boy was so obviously straight, it actually hurt.

Girls would come up and flirt with him after games and give him their numbers, although he always denies them, that didn’t mean he didn’t like girls. In fact, One day when Cyrus asked why he always denied the female companionship, He said that he already had a crush.

Probably some beautiful cheerleader with blond hair and perfect blue eyes with a really nice personality…

Cyrus let out a sigh as he realized he was already at the house and had probably been sitting there for a moment or two without moving. He parked the car and grabbed his umbrella, as he stepped up to the front door.

He pushed the cold plastic doorbell into its slot, alerting the girls that he was there, but instead of squealing, he could’ve sworn he heard someone say “Thanks for the help guys, I’ll leave through the back door.” And it was a boys voice too.

It couldn’t have been Bowie’s, it was too high pitched. It couldn’t be Jonah or Walker because they were already at the dance together taking pictures.

It didn’t really matter though, so he let the thought pop out of his head as the door opened up, revealing an Andi with one half of her face covered in makeup and a robe over her dress. “Cyrus! Thank god! Uhm, me and Buffy were just having a disagreement on which mask I should use. Come on in!”

As the girls worked their magic on Cyrus’ face and outfit, making him a huge glittery mess, somewhere in the middle He felt his phone ding in his pocket.

“Stay still!” Buffy groaned when he tried to retrieve it but as soon as he pulled his hand away from his phone, Andi elbowed her harshly, giving her some look that Cyrus didn’t understand.

Buffy’s eyes widened and she stepped away,“ Actually I’m gonna go get some water. You check your phone or whatever.”

He chuckled awkwardly as he shuffled around his back pocket in search, pulling the cold screen out after a second.

It was a Text from TJ.

“I’ve never understood how people can’t recognize a friend under a mask.”

—————

45 terrifying minutes later, the trio was stepping into the school. Cyrus told them to act like they weren’t friends, which would be an obvious give away to who they were, seeing as the whole school knew them as the GHC, but they both stood planted at his side.

“Hey,” Buffy nudged him motioning her head in the direction of the lockers, “I was wondering if I could have back that book I lent you? It’s in your locker right?”

“Well yeah, but do I have to get it right now? I could get it before we go home-”

“Yes!” Andi piped in, seeming overly intrigued by the situation, “I need it now! B…Because I wanted to borrow it! And I need it right now. How could you deprive me of the wonderful world of reading for one more second Cyrus?!”

“Wow, okay…I didn’t realize you wanted to read about basketball so much…”

He walked away tentatively. He was honestly a bit worried about their health at this point.

As Cyrus swished the pesky metal knob back and forth, even failing one time, he finally got it. But instead of immediately grabbing the book from his bottom shelf, he watched a white piece of paper float down to his feet gracefully.

“What the…” his voice trailed off as he leaned down to pick it up, folding open the white material.

‘I heard you talking about a dream’ -Mystery Man

What?

Something so strange was happening…he just didn’t know what.

Who in the world was mystery man? And why did he put a note in Cyrus’ locker? Was it just Andi and Buffy playing a trick on him?

He let out a bit of a laugh, shaking his head slightly. it must’ve been them. That’s why they were acting so suspicious! “Excuse me?”

Cyrus jumped, spinning around suddenly to look at whoever the voice belonged to, simultaneously hiding the note behind his back.

There was a short-ish boy with ginger hair standing in front of the first locker in the row, looking at him.

It was like…incredibly creepy

“Uhm–hi? D-did you need something?” He stuttered, mentally facepalming for tripping up so much.

“This might seem a bit strange,” he started, even taking a deep breath before he started talking again,“ But I’m supposed to give you this.”

The boy pulled out a rose with another piece of paper attached to it. As soon as it was in Cyrus’ grip, the boy ran back into the party.

Got it…Andi and Buffy, we’re really trying to weird him out here.

Maybe they were actually having fun with this. Of course, why would Cyrus wanna ruin their little joke? He read the note on the rose, giving an overdramatic reaction to the girls, who were probably watching him from around the corner.

But when he looked around, he didn’t see either of his friends, but another boy smiling at him. Not creepily, just…happily.

Even if he was smiling creepily, Cyrus wouldn’t care because– oh my god

The teen had a dark gray suit with a red lining and a white undershirt. Tucked in his chest pocket, was a rose. The rose with the most beautiful shade of scarlet covering it. Not to mention it fit his body like– perfectly.

“What did you find?” He asked, motioning to Cyrus’ hand. “Oh, just something…my friends are pranking me. At least I think they are.”

The boy cracked a smile, “I Don’t think that’s the case. If your friends were the ones that gave you those, how do I know about the Dream?”

“Oh…” Cyrus felt his face flush, “You put them in here? What’s your name?”

“Be creative Cyrus. You’re going to have to figure that out yourself.”

The guy walked away after that, leaving him dumbfounded, so Cyrus turned to his note.

'For someone to love you at every seem.’ -Mystery Man

So, he wasn’t being pranked, 'the Fancy-tux-mystery-guy was the one behind the rose and locker note, but Andi and Buffy were still the ones that told me to go there, so they must know something’ He concluded.

with a sigh, he walked out into the dance room, coloring his locker door in the way.

As soon as he spotted Andi’s dress he walked up to her, giving a slight slap on the back of her head.

She turned around with a pout, making Cyrus feel slightly bad. But at least she deserved it.

“What is this about?” He groaned, holding up the notes.

“Who’s mystery man?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Andi! I know you know who he is. He told me.”

“He did?”

Cyrus Smirked, “Not really, but you just confirmed it.”

Andi rolled her eyes, punching him in the shoulder.“I can’t tell you, I’m sorry Cy.”

“Do I at least know him?”

“I mean you would know if you knew him.” Cyrus glared at Buffy as she walked up behind Andi with a smug look on her face.

“Don’t use that with me. Don’t you have some boyfriend to be getting punch for?” He mocked, sticking his young out at her like a mature 17 year old would do.

Andi gasped, pointing to the bottom of the stage “No, but you do!” She handed him an empty cup as she grabbed Buffy’s arm and dragged her away “Enjoy the party!” She yelled back.

He followed where her fingers went, leading him to the same perfect tux boy that he had met before. The boy pointed down to Cyrus’ cup, then winked at him. Leaving the same way Andi did.

He peered into the cup, gasping at the piece of paper taped to the bottom.

Did they plant these things before the party?!

'A boy to make you feel like royalty’ -Mystery man

Now that Cyrus was sure it wasn’t one of his friends being dumb, he really wasn’t sure who this guy was. All of the notes that were given to him made a poem, but the poem didn’t give any hints away as to who the mystery man was.

For half a second, a thought popped into His head that maybe…just maybe, his mystery man was none other than TJ kippen, but he shoved it down as hard as he possibly could. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, and even if He isn’t TJ, he sure is going through a lot to get this message to Cyrus. So he must be a hard working person at least.

“Would you like a snack with your drink dude?”

The black haired boy silently thanked whoever this was for pulling him out of his head.

Now, in front of him was one of the dance waiters. Yes, waiters. They were usually kids that got in detention days before the dance, used as a luxury for the good kids. They weren’t allowed to wear masks so Cyrus was pleasantly surprised with a familiar face.

“Hey, Reed!” Cyrus took a cookie off of the silver platter he was carrying with a polite smile. “You get detention again for smoking weed in the bathrooms?”

Reed cackled, nodding triumphantly. He started to walk away but after a second he backtracked quickly, switching the platter to his left hand,“By the way, I was supposed to somehow get this note on that Cookie,” he mumbled, fishing something out of his pocket and handing it to Cyrus, “But uh, I was kinda high when I did that too and I tried to bake the note into the cookie. Needless to say, it didn’t work, so I thought I’d just hand it to ya. Bye kid!”

He probably should’ve expected that.

'To show ultimate loyalty’ -Mystery man

——————————

Two hours Later, a very tired boy was sitting at a table, head down with a massive headache.

As cute as this was, and it really was cute, Cyrus couldn’t figure out for the life of him how he was supposed to find this boy.

All throughout the night, there were people giving him notes. It almost seemed like the whole school was in on it! When he had gone to get pictures with Andi and Buffy, Amber (she was taking the pictures for extra credit in journalism class) gave him the pictures with the note somehow already written on the back!

It had said, “I can give you what you what.” -Mystery Man

And not to mention, can you guess how was talking to her after they left? That’s right! Fancy tux guy himself.

He felt a pout slide on his face as he rearranged the pieces of paper on the tablecloth. It was easy to tell that the poem wasn’t written by any Edgar Allen Poe, or maybe it was because Edgar kinda sucked at love poems. And yes, the poem wasn’t the most creative thing, but it was still sweet.

He liked the most recent pieces he got from Walker and Jonah that said

'It’s all I want to do’ -mystery man

And 'I will sweep you off your feet’ -Mystery Man. They didn’t seem like much on their own, but it sounded like the poem was coming to an end. Maybe he could finally figure out who his Prince Charming was!

“Are you getting worn out?”

The shorter boys head popped up, with a smile. It was TJ! Accept, when he made eye contact, it wasn’t. It was fancy man…

'I must be hallucinating.’ He huffed

“What? Not happy to see me?”

“No, I just thought you were someone else,” Cyrus said with his most respectful smile. He didn’t want to make the one person that might actually like him, feel bad.

“And who would that be?”

His voice almost sounded hopeful and happy, even though Cyrus wasn’t talking about him. And he knew that.

“My friend TJ. I wanted to talk to him tonight.”

He gave a nod a stood up from his chair. For an odd second, Cyrus panicked because he though tux guy was gonna leave him alone, instead he walked up to him and held out his hand. “How about I distract you for a bit? I like this song.”

A sigh a relief exited his mouth as he got up with a slight hop in his step. If he spent time with the taller boy, maybe he could figure out who it was.

Cyrus was absolutely burning red as Mystery Man put his hands and his waist. He was hesitant to put his arms around the other boy’s neck, but when he smiled at him encouragingly, Cyrus relaxed and slotted his hands behind the taller boys head.

The Smile seemed strangely familiar, which was easily a sign that he knew this person, but who’s smile was it? Cyrus titled his head slightly, observing the other boys facial features. He felt as if the name was on the tip of his young, but it got swept away as Mystery man started to speak.

“Any clue who I am yet?” He nudged on.

The dark haired boy rolled his eyes at the irony and giggles, “I would if you didn’t interrupt my thinking process.”

“My whole goal tonight is to distract you. I’m glad I’m succeeding.” Something seemed a bit off about that. Why would Cyrus need to be distracted?

“What do you mean?” He prodded.

“If you weren’t distracted, I wouldn’t be able to finish this part of the plan.” Mystery man spun Cyrus around, letting him expand to the edges of the dance floor, the grabbing him again and pulling him closer than before. “Nobody else is dancing, cutie.” He whispered, sending shivers down Cyrus’ spine.

He looked around frantically realizing that he and the taller boy were, in fact, the only people on the dance floor. Everyone else was standing around the edge, smiling at them.

He noticed a very energetic Buffy and Andi standing at the front of the crowd giving him a thumbs up, but it barely made him feel less nervous.

“Who did you say you were looking for again?” Although Cyrus was somehow positive that he remembered the name, he repeated himself.

“My friend TJ kippen…” he murdered, flushing at the realization that TJ could very well be watching him from the crowd.

“And why can’t you find him again?”

“Well everyone is wearing masks…it would be hard to spot him in the crowd.”

“You know,” he started, leaning in closer, “I’ve never understood how people can’t recognize a friend under a mask.”

Why did that sound so familiar?

“I mean, if you’re close enough, you should be able to tell easily.”

Where in the hell had he heard that before?

“Do you think you could do that for me underdog? Do you think you could look slightly closer?”

Cyrus had almost missed it. But with the close proximity, every word that was being conveyed and processed, was clear as water.

And then, he looked closer.

“TJ..?”

The taller boy stayed silent for a moment, then smiled nervously.

“I heard you talking about a dream, for someone to love you at every seem.

A boy to treat you like royalty, to show ultimate loyalty. I can give you what you want, it’s all I want to do. Thanks for looking closer so I can say that I love you.”

He took a hand off of Cyrus’ waist and untied his own mask, gripping it in his hand as it pulled away.

“Yeah…I know it’s cheesy.” He sighed, “But I wanted to give you your Cinderella story.”

Cyrus was dumbfounded as he studied the other boys face. Just to double check, that yes, standing in front of him, holding his waist, confessing his feelings, was TJ kippen. His best friend.

Cyrus retracted his hands, pulling his mask off with a small tug.

He felt his cheeks dampen, overwhelmed with happiness.

“Maybe it was.” He whispered, “But at least it was from you.”

He stood up on his toes, closing the distance, and moving his lips along TJ’s.

The entire room erupted in cheer and Cyrus found it hard not to break the kiss by smiling entirely too much.

—————THE END—————

Thanks so much for reading this! I had a masquerade ball idea in the drafts so quite a while, so I decided I would finally write it. 💗

[beanfic]

The Criminal

Pairing: Tyler x reader

Warnings: Language, Angst, and violence.

Word Count: 2069

Request: Tyler Req? Where he is a criminal and he is on the run and he meets the reader by accident and he is exposed so he kidnaps the reader. He is rough at first but then he turns soft for the reader but then something Angst happens in the end??

You wrapped the scarf around your neck as you headed out your door to head to the nearest coffee shop. It was just around the corner, which was only a fifteen-minute walk from your small apartment. Your wifi had gone down, and you needed the free wifi to get your psych 300 essay finished up. The wind was cold against your nose, probably making it red underneath the lin layer of concealer you had put on.

The Barista waved his hand as the bell dinged when you opened the door. You flashed him a smile as you placed your backpack on a chair in the corner. There were only three people in line, and you stood behind them deciding on what you were in the mood for.

“Nice to see you again! Wifi still down?” the barista said with a smile. He had short black hair and was wearing red flannel. You always thought he was cute

“Unfortunately,” you nodded. “Can I get a peppermint mocha please?”

“Sure thing,” he said cheerfully as he punched in your order. “$4.25.”

You handed him a five dollar bill and then dropped the leftover change into the tip jar. The drink didn’t take long at all to make, and you quickly grabbed it and walked back to your seat. The essay was over half written so you weren’t too stressed. You pulled open the laptop and started typing away at the next paragraph.

“Excuse me, miss?” You looked up at a young man with dark brown hair and eyes looking down at you. “Can I sit with you?”

“Uh, sure,” you stalled with your answer but then moved your backpack off of the chair so the young man could sit down. He was wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, and black tennis shoes. You could see that tattoos decorated his arms, and he had multiple cuts and bruises on his face.

“Do you have twenty dollars I could borrow for a cab?” he asked. You stared into his eyes, not knowing what to say to this stranger asking you for money.

“Oh, um, why do you need it?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain, I just need a cab,” he ran his hand through his hair and you watched it as it fluffed up.

“Where are you heading?” you asked softly.

“You ask a lot of questions,” he chuckled.

“I don’t feel comfortable giving stranger money so I’m asking you questions so we aren’t strangers.”

“Interesting, well my name is Tyler, I’m 23, and I am headed anywhere that is not here.”

“That’s suspicious, are you running from something,” you joked. Tyler cleared his throat and shuffled uncomfortably

“Doesn’t matter, I don’t know you either so why would I tell you my life story.”

“No need to get defensive, Tyler.” You watched him as he kept on looking around him nervously as if he was afraid someone was going to come in.

“Look, just pretend I was never here,” he whispered as he stood up to walk away but you grabbed his arm to stop him.

“My name is Y/N,” you told him. “Why don’t we get to know each other a little better, want to come back to my apartment?”

“Sure,” Tyler whispered. He looked afraid.

“Tyler, are you okay?” He nodded but the way he stared at the ground told you differently.

“How far away is your house?”

“Fifteen minutes away, come on.” You put your computer back into your backpack and threw it over your shoulder. Tyler put his hood on and followed you out of the coffee shop. You both were quiet as you powered through the winter air.

“This is your place?” Tyler let out a whistle at your pretty nice apartment that you were renting while you were going to school.

“Yeah, I share it with three other roommates but they are all out of town this week visiting the big school for parties,” you explained.

“Cool.” His eyes avoided everything but the ground as you showed him the inside of your place.

“So tell me about yourself, Tyler.”

“You go first, so I know I can trust you.”

You were taken aback, but you were also so curious about what he was hiding. “Okay, well I’m 20, I go to UC and I am a psychology major, I don’t talk to my parents anymore because they kicked me out when they found out I got an abortion, and I suffer from depression.”

“Okay,” Tyler whispered.

You took a deep breath, “There, now you know who I am. Who are you?”

Tyler bit his lip before looking up you with a serious gaze. “Can I trust you? I know that we barely know each other, but can I trust you?”

You nodded your head, “Yes.”

“I’m running from the police right now, and I really need to get to Indiana which is why I need the money for a cab or bus.”

“What do you mean you’re running from the police?” You took a few steps back realizing that you invited a criminal into your apartment when no one else was home.

“I did something bad, and they want me arrested.”

“What do you mean by something bad?” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I robbed a bank because I needed to pay my boss,” he admitted.

“Your boss?”

“It’s complicated.” Suddenly you both were interrupted by a series of knocks on your front door following a deep voice.

“This is the police, I need you to open up!” Tyler stared at you with wide eyes and then he grabbed something from the inside of his sweatshirt.

“Do what I say and you won’t get hurt.” He pointed a small handgun at you. You nodded slowly, terrified that you were going to die. You wanted to run and open the door, but at the same time, you knew that was not the right decision.

“What do we do,” you whispered.

“Do you have a car?” he asked and you nodded. “Grab the keys and we will go down the fire escape.”

“Okay,” you whispered. You ran over to your purse and grabbed your keys out of it. You pulled open your window and took a step out of it with Tyler following behind. You could feel the gun on your back, and you found it hard to breathe.

“Go faster,” Tyler sneered. “They could break down the door any minute.” You hurried down the escape until you were down on the street.

“My car is the blue honda civic.”

“Drive, now,” he commanded you once you both were in the car. “Get on the freeway.”

“Okay, please don’t kill me,” you whispered.

“Shut up!”

“You know that you’re practically kidnapping me which is only going to add to your list of felonies.”

“I said shut up!” he pointed the gun at your side.

“Put the gun away Tyler, I know you wouldn’t kill me.” You stared him down until he put the gun down and away. He started out the window and didn’t talk, and you focused on the road in front of you.

You probably had been driving for three hours before Tyler told you to find a motel. He had only talked to you a few times that entire time, and it was only about where to go and what he wanted you to do. You were scared, and you wanted to call the police, but at the same time, you knew that Tyler most likely didn’t have it in him to hurt you.

“Is this okay?” you asked pulling into a crappy, run down motel. He nodded his head and slammed the door once you had parked. You slowly followed him into the entrance where he was already talking to the receptionist.

“What do you mean you only have one room with one bed? This is the shittiest hotel,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You can leave and find another place,” the old lady lowered her glasses and stared Tyler down. She then looked back to you and you watched her eyes as they danced from your head to your toes. “She with you?”

“Yes, but-”

“The one room will be fine,” you interrupted Tyler. He glared back at you and smirked at him. The receptionist nodded as she printed out the paperwork and handed you the key.

“Room 147, it will be down the hall and on the right.”

“Thank you,” you smiled brightly at the old lady and headed down to the room. You wondered what was going to happen next because you didn’t have any extra clothes or anything.

“Is this where you are going to kill me?” you asked Tyler once you were in the small room. Tyler laughed a little before shaking his head.

“I don’t kill people, I’m not like that.”

“Then what are you like? You are so mysterious, and I feel like I should know since you kind of kidnapped me.”

“I shouldn’t have fucking sat down and asked you for money,” he groaned as he stared out the window.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“I know, neither did I, the last thing I wanted was to be stuck with a bitch” he with an angry tone. He walked over to you and stared you down. “

“You’re pathetic,” you whispered.

“I’m pathetic? You have no idea what I have been through or my life story,” Tyler yelled. “I am trying to save my parents, and I got into the wrong crowd and now I can’t get out. I’m either going to be killed or arrested.”

“Tyler,” you whispered. You watched him as he fell to his knees and started to sob.

“I’m so fucking scared, Y/N. I saw you in the coffee shop and something inside me told me to talk to you, and now look what I’ve done.”

“Tyler I was joking about you kidnapping me, I’m not afraid of you.”

“I’m afraid of myself. I’m a horrible person.”

“No, you’re not.” You wondered if you should comfort him but you weren’t sure how he would be with physical touch. “Can I hold you?”

“What?” Tyler wiped his eyes as he looked up at you.

“Sometimes when I am having a hard day I like to just be held.”

“Why would you do that for me.”

“Because Tyler, even though I just met you I feel like I know you. I know that you aren’t a bad guy and that you need help. I want to help you,” you explained. Tyler stood up and you both went over to the bed where you wrapped yours around his body. He continued to cry into your shoulder, and you rubbed small circles into his back.

“Thank you, I’ve never had someone care for me like this, especially someone that I just threatened with a gun,” Tyler said with a little chuckle. His brown eyes locked with yours, and he started to lean in. His lips ended up touching yours, and soon you both were kissing each other. Your hands grabbed at his hair while his hands danced around your body.

“In there!” a voice came from outside while the door was pounded down. The room was filled with what looked like FBI agents.

“Tyler!” you screamed at you watched someone dressed in black grab his body and hand him to a cop.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed to you as he was getting handcuffed.

“Are you okay?” said the man wearing all black. You avoided eye contact and you watched Tyler be dragged out of the room. You wanted to run after him and save him, but you knew there was nothing you could do.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled.

“Let’s get you home and then we can talk about pressing charges.”

“I don’t want to press charges.”

“Are you sure?” he asked and you nodded. After they were done interrogating you with questions, and you didn’t tell them anything important about Tyler to protect him, you were finally able to go home.

Once you were in bed you started to think of the crazy day you had. This mysterious stranger asked you for money, and then he held a gun to your body and then broke down in your arms. You wondered if you ever going to see Tyler again. You hoped so and you hoped he was going to be okay.

[kaleid-tay-scope]

New Reputation: Taylor Swift shares intel on TS7, fan theories, and her next era

Snakes begone. The 29-year-old superstar is back with a new album and a new outlook on life. We go inside the pop monarch's latest chapter.

Alex Suskind

May 09, 2019 at 12:00 PM EDT

Peggy Sirota for EW

THE PALM TREES ARRIVED IN FEBRUARY, seven in all, set against a pastel blue backdrop with superimposed stars. It appeared that a new Taylor Swift era was upon us — that the old happy-go-lucky Taylor was not, in fact, dead. Or did it? It was only an Instagram photo, just one more picture in an infinite content scroll. But it also came from a pop star known for prodigious hint-dropping, whose fans turn every piece of info into an online archaeological dig.

As expected, the summery post sent Swifties sifting through each detail with a fine-tooth comb. What did the trees symbolize? An overdue vacation? A recently purchased beach house? A secret palm-frond collection? Or maybe, as many surmised, it was new music. One Twitter user predicted that the number of stars in the background of the photo hinted at a single drop: “There’s about 60/61 [stars]️. There’s 61 days until April 26, FRIDAY, a SINGLE RELEASE day!” Another said it was the unofficial announcement of her next LP: “Okay so in this picture there are 4 palm trees on the left (4 country albums). There are two palm trees on the right (2 pop albums). There is one large palm tree in the middle. This represents her new album.” These may sound like ludicrous conspiracy theories — for the record, they were mostly correct — but they fit firmly within the Taylor Swift Musical Universe (it’s like the Marvel Cinematic Universe but with more guitars and fewer Stan Lee cameos).

“I posted that the day that I finished the seventh album,” says Swift about the photo. “I couldn’t expect [my fans] to know that. I figured they’d figure it out later, but a lot of their theories were actually correct. Those Easter eggs were just trying to establish that tone, which I foreshadowed ages ago in a Spotify vertical video for ‘Delicate’ by painting my nails those [pastel] colors.”

It’s now April, and the 29-year-old pop star is in a Los Angeles photo studio, giving her first sit-down magazine interview in three years. She wants to discuss the art of placing hints inside her work, as well as the upcoming record, which she recorded as soon as she finished the Reputation Tour. She’s also keen on detailing her own obsessions, talking up the TV shows, books, and songs that help shape her outlook on life.

Over the past 13 years, Swift has perfected the pop culture feedback loop: She shares updates about her life and drops hints about new music, which fans then gobble up and re-promote with their own theories, which Swift then re-shares on her Tumblr or incorporates into future clues. It’s like a T-Swift-built Escher staircase of personal memories and moments that tease what’s next. “I’ve trained them to be that way,” she says of her fans’ astute detective work. Swift is a pop culture fanatic herself (see: the jean jacket she’s wearing on the EW cover) and has an innate understanding of the lengths her audience will go to be a part of the original creation. “I love that they like the cryptic hint-dropping. Because as long as they like it, I’ll keep doing it. It’s fun. It feels mischievous and playful.”

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Through this approach, Swift has designed the ultimate artistic scavenger hunt — and it’s easy to get swept up in its drama, even if you don’t listen to her music. Her moments aren’t always hidden, either. Sometimes Swift highlights aspects of her world just so fans feel like they’re on the journey with her. Like the time in March 2018 when pop singer Hayley Kiyoko was accused of shading Swift after mentioning her name during an interview. On Tumblr, Swift re-shared a fan’s post, adding commentary that defended Kiyoko, which immediately dispelled any conflicts between the two artists; Swift’s post subsequently received more than 29,000 notes. Four months later, she invited Kiyoko on stage during the Reputation Tour to sing her hit “Curious.” Kiyoko returned the favor when she had Swift join her that December at a benefit on behalf of the LGBTQ organization the Ally Coalition to perform “Delicate.” Fans of both artists were elated by the mutual support.

The feedback loop also extends outside of music. In October 2018, Swift broke her silence about politics by publicly endorsing two candidates for office in her adopted state of Tennessee, while encouraging her followers to register to vote. She kept up the civic momentum through Election Day when she asked fans to post selfies after voting; Swift then eagerly re-promoted her favorites on Instagram stories.

This practice of sharing and re-sharing and sharing again is why listeners consider Swift one of the world’s most accessible pop stars, someone willing to not only interact with her audience but invite them to secret listening sessions, or make the occasional surprise visit to their wedding or prom. It’s a symbiotic relationship, one that, as Swift tells EW, helped her dig out of the darker era of reputation. “It’s definitely the fans that made that tonal shift in the way I was feeling,” she says. “Songwriters need to communicate, and part of communicating correctly is when you put out a message that is understood the way you meant it. reputation was interesting because I’d never before had an album that wasn’t fully understood until it was seen live. When it first came out everyone thought it was just going to be angry; upon listening to the whole thing they realized it’s actually about love and friendship, and finding out what your priorities are.”

Then, during the Reputation Tour, she had an epiphany: that despite the caricature that she thought had been created of her, there were many people who saw what others had simply refused to. “I would look out into the audience and I’d see these amazing, thoughtful, caring, wonderful, empathetic people,” she says. “So often with our takedown culture, talking s— about a celebrity is basically the same as talking s— about the new iPhone. So when I go and I meet fans, I see that they actually see me as a flesh-and-blood human being. That — as contrived as it may sound — changed [me] completely, assigning humanity to my life.”

At tour’s end, she channeled that positive energy into the studio, recording the new album in just under three months. But the fast pace won’t mean a short LP. Swift confirmed that her seventh record (she hasn’t announced a title yet; the working nickname among fans is TS7) will include more songs than any of her previous releases. “I try not to go into making an album with any expectation,” she says. “I started to write so much that I knew immediately it would probably be bigger.”

The project will also feature a mix of old and new collaborators (on the candy-coated lead single “ME!” Swift brought in Panic! At the Disco frontman Brendon Urie and coproducer Joel Little, both of whom she had never worked with), but she is unsurprisingly coy about doling out much more information, as if doing so would break the carefully honed T-Swiftian feedback loop. “There’s a lot of a lot on this album,” she says. “I’m trying to convey an emotional spectrum. I definitely don’t wanna have too much of one thing…. You get some joyful songs and you get the bops, as they say.” There’s also, she adds, some “really, really, really, really sad songs,” but “not enough to where you need to worry about me.”

She gives us one more clue: The true distinction between TS7 and reputation is in the delivery. “This time around I feel more comfortable being brave enough to be vulnerable, because my fans are brave enough to be vulnerable with me. Once people delve into the album, it’ll become pretty clear that that’s more of the fingerprint of this — that it’s much more of a singer-songwriter, personal journey than the last one.”

The past month has seen a deluge of Swift activity, from the release of the new single to dropping more hints in interviews about the record and its title, which is apparently hidden somewhere inside the “ME!” music video (current fan guesses include Kaleidoscope and Daisy). But if the Easter eggs from the pop star seem like a business-as-usual routine, she says this album does indeed mark a new era of her life, where she’s been better able to prioritize what’s important to her.

“Our priorities can get messed up existing in a society that puts a currency on curating the way people see your life,” she says. “Social media has given people a way to express their art. I use it to connect with fans. But on the downside you feel like there are 3 trillion new invisible hoops that you have to jump through, and you feel like you’ll never be able to jump through them all correctly. I — along with a lot of my friends and fans — am trying to figure out how to navigate living my life and not just curating what I want people to think living my life is. I’m not always able to maintain a balance, and I think that’s important for everyone to know about. We’re always learning, and that’s something that I also had to learn — that I’ve got to be brave enough to learn. Learning in public is so humiliating sometimes…. Do I feel more balanced in my life than I ever have before? Um, probably yeah. But is that permanent? No. And I think being okay with that has put me in a bit of a better position.” Strong words to live by, to quote, to re-share, to tweet back to her, and see if she’ll respond.